


I Am Yours

by claimedbydaryl



Series: True Mates [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Feels, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Riding, Scent Kink, daichi is the physical embodiment of a cock block, like it gets cute real quick, pure self-indulgence in the omega verse, suga is a relationship master okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:31:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claimedbydaryl/pseuds/claimedbydaryl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asahi returns to Karasuno after a month's absence, Noya soon realises that his feelings for the alpha went beyond simple companionship and reliance, that his need for Asahi was carved deep into his heart, and had been for a while now.</p><p>The only problem is that now he has to deal with these emotions, but it's difficult because... his body is so innately attuned to Asahi's presence, in more than a number of ways.</p><p>(Prequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/6395080">This Is Ours</a>).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Warmth Of Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heavnsam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavnsam/gifts).



> before we get to the fun part ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) just a few things:  
> \- i will probably add to this series, focusing on all my fav haikyuu couples in omega verse.  
> \- i am simply indulging myself in a/b/o dynamics here, so excuse any inaccurate characerisation.  
> \- unbeta'd.  
> \- it's basically angsty mutual pining to thE EXTREME.

The smell of Karasuno’s gym had always acted as a source of comfort for Noya, but it was lacking a certain undertone. Faded sweat and cleaning disinfectant, a handful of other assorted alphas, betas and omegas—it was a well-rounded scent, but it was too sharp. It didn’t soothingly wash over Noya, it didn’t make his feet rest flat on the ground and his hands hold still.

And he knew what he was so desperately missing:

Asahi—it was Asahi.

Noya looked forward and wasn’t settled by the dependable sight of Asahi’s back, failing to find a deep feeling of ease in the breadth of his shoulders—because Asahi wasn’t there. Noya was where he belonged on the court, but his body was mourning the loss of the alpha and friend.

But Noya was still angry. Hurt. He had retained that sense of haughty dismissal when he watched Asahi reluctantly enter the court during their practise match with the local neighbourhood team. Noya was struck by a number of feelings—but the bitter swell of betrayal was the strongest, stifled and overwhelming.

It was true that Asahi had been beaten, and so he’d run away in dejection. Although he’d committed an unforgivable crime and abandoned his teammates, he hadn’t stayed to fight. He’d _ran_ and deserted Noya without even a second glance, hands tucked into his pockets and large shoulders hitched upwards as if to shield him from the outside world. And Noya—

He didn’t even deign to look at Asahi as he took positon on the court beside him, ignoring how familiar it felt, like a jagged piece of a puzzle finally sliding into place, complete. Whole.

Sometimes Noya thought it was simple omega biology that caused him to feel a base level of comfort in the alpha’s presence, but yet it was only Asahi. The faint scents of Daichi and Tanaka never lulled Noya into a calm, focused state during a heated match, or followed him home sometimes—a powerfully wholesome smell clinging to his jacket like a welcome distraction.

Noya shook his head and glanced at Asahi instead, but he was looking ahead, seemingly not paying attention to anything that wasn’t his own turbulent thoughts. Steeling himself, Noya turned away, practically forcing his head to move. Asahi would remain a towering pillar of stability, he would remain steady—Noya just had to wait for the alpha to return to his life.

It was after Hinata and Kageyama had exhibited their own powers as a freak spiking duo, after Noya had begun to lose hope, that Asahi had said, “That’s what I want.” The ace’s hands were fisted, the familiar scent of laundry-soft cotton and tea leaves flooding Noya’s nostrils for the first time in a month. “No matter how many times I fail; I still want to spike.”

“Then I’m fine,” Noya heard himself say. “Now that you said that, I’m fine.” He was relieved that Asahi was finally looking at him. That Asahi saw that he would always be a part of his life, a reliable figure at his back, strengthening him. That they could simply look at each other and communicate without speaking.

He spent the remainder of the match feeling as if he had returned home, finally. During the past month the omega’s hormonal balance had been an uneven fluctuation between restless and alarmingly dull. Noya had desperately prayed it wasn’t the symptoms of pre-heat, since he had never had to endure the ordeal before, and his family didn’t have the funds to buy suppressants like Suga and Yamaguchi did. He worried for the hyperactive Hinata too, but his family was a strong line of omegas that had a history of presenting late, so at least he seemed safe.

But Noya would have to spend his first heat alone, locked in his room—and hopefully it wouldn’t start somewhere in public, or a place equally as dangerous. No mate, no one to rely on. Just blurred, indistinct fantasies of long hair and broad shoulders moving over him, tending to the omega’s insatiable need to be knotted, to be faithfully linked to someone else.

Standing on the sidelines, Noya shivered at the thought of a larger, warmer body covering his, earning a wayward glance of concern from Suga. He shook his head in a reassuring dismissal, although Suga’s expression remained wary until Daichi wandered close, his hand resting low on Suga’s back. The silver-haired omega’s laugh was loud and sparkling as Daichi leaned close to him, forcing Noya to look away at the intimate display of affection. He took a step backwards, turning—

And bumped into a sturdy chest—one he was all too familiar with staring at.

Asahi smiled gently at Noya in a shy sign of burgeoning courage. He had lost Noya’s trust, and everything in his core strained to appease the omega, to smooth the furrowed line between his eyebrows. He couldn’t, though. Not ever.

“Noya?” The alpha tried for instead.

He swallowed. “Asahi-san, I—” But the words never came—there were no hurled accusations, or too-casual displays of platonic brotherhood. It tumbled out of his mouth in lieu of his blank mind and immobile tongue, an unvoiced confession: “I missed you.”

The month-long subject of Noya’s betrayed loneliness sputtered, shoulders drawing close to his body. Always protecting himself, shy and flustered under any sort of attention. Noya told himself that he didn’t notice the resplendent colour of pink tinging Asahi’s cheeks. Or the way a strand of hair curled over his damp forehead, his sweat-thick scent suggestive yet _comforting_ because it was so innately Asahi.

The alpha attempted to speak, although it was still too new. Asahi was unused to Noya’s close presence enough that it made his chest tighten, his arms held stiffly as he repressed every scrap of will in his body from reaching out, from comforting Noya through physical touch alone. But Asahi knew it couldn’t work like that—that they needed to be mates for scent and physicality to be a source of something rooted deep in their hearts.

“Noya,” Suga said, suddenly standing between them, breaking the connection. That low hum of barely-formed feelings and biological responses cut down before they had even had the chance to grow and foster into more.

Daichi watched them surreptitiously from the sidelines, after Suga had told him to stay back with a gentle, placating kiss to his cheek, to let him handle this.

“Do you—”

Noya spoke first. “Suga-san, can I speak to you?” It was rushed and desperate, causing Asahi’s eyes to flicker towards him before finally being cast down. Noya knew he was hurting him—further damaging what tenuous foundations they’d so painstakingly laid—but he was confused. Scared.

“Um, I—” Asahi exhaled shakily, managing to seem quiet and small despite his stature. “Goodnight—I m-mean goodbye. Goodbye, Noya, Suga.”

The gym was distinctly loud and busy with conflicting scents and firm shouts—mainly Kageyama and Hinata’s—but Noya felt separated from the cacophonous din. Cleaved from the normal stream of relaxed competition and shared companionship, isolated—because Asahi was walking away from him. The familiar sight of Asahi’s retreating back made his blood sing out, calling for the alpha, the very marrow of his bones aching.

But then too-soft, too-weak fingers grasped his elbow. It was all wrong—the scent was mellow, the cadence of his voice almost musical. “Do you want to leave?” Suga was asking.

Noya nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

Suga led him outside, to the club room, and Noya missed the pointed look which passed between the captain and his setter. Noya didn’t realise he was quivering until the door slid shut behind him, near collapsing onto the floor. He was already exhausted with how rapidly his emotions seemed to sway between soaring happiness and plummeting despondency, yet always centred on his confusion.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Noya admitted helplessly, registering the closeness of Suga. The omega’s presence was a meagre form of anchorage in comparison to what he had felt with Asahi. And he both hated and loved that Asahi was that something more for him, because Noya didn’t understand it. He hadn’t for a month.

“Was it Asahi-san?”

A slow, blank-stared blink before Noya searched for what he wanted to say, uncharacteristically sombre. “I… I’ve been feeling weird lately and... I’m worried I’m going to go into heat.”

Suga smiled fleetingly, slow and understanding. “How exactly have you been feeling?”

“When I was suspended, I was agitated. And then it went quiet sometimes, and cold, like I was lonely.” Noya clutched his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric tight, keenly remembering the weeks of emotional disparity. “But today… Today I felt calm and focused. Like I could do anything, like I was finally where I needed to be—and it wasn’t just because of playing volleyball.”

“Are you bonded?”

“What? No!” Unconsciously, Noya raised a hand to the curve of his neck, finding the skin smooth and unmarked. He ignored the pang of disappointment which followed.

Suga was silent for a moment before saying, “Heats are messy and complicated and completely natural, Nishinoya, but they’re sudden. You would’ve had a few days pre-warning, not weeks of conflicted emotions. And what you described sounded more like a bond, like the separation and reunion from whoever marked you.”

“But I’ve never…” Noya trailed off, growing steadily more and more uncomfortable. He was a loud and energetic figure on the court, in school, and out of them both, but he was unpractised in simple biology. Unwilling to ask his parents or teachers, or even skim internet articles for information.

“Me and Daichi haven’t either.”

Noya’s mouth opened, posed to question, although he was too shocked to move.

“We’re waiting until we’re out of high school, so we can have kids,” Suga admitted shyly, a faint blush painting his cheeks pink. “And it’s a lot easier taking suppressants than having to spend a heat without the person you actually want to mate, especially when you know they will mate you at a second’s notice.”

“You’re not even bonded?” Noya dared to ask in disbelief. “Not even accidentally?”

Suga shook his head in dismissal, his hand mirroring Noya’s and finding the same unblemished area on his own neck. “Sometimes when Daichi and I are… you know… he’ll say he needs to stop. Although I can see how much physical effort it takes him to pull away, and that everything in my nature just makes me want to tell him no, we stand by our decision. We want to go to college and have a stable home and finances before even approaching anything that could lead to children.”

A thunderclap of sound interrupted Suga and Noya’s conversation as Daichi stumbled inside the clubroom, closely flanked by Asahi, Tsukishima, and Yamaguchi. The captain stared at Suga, equal parts furious that his private affairs were being discussed and also humbled by the knowledge that his future mate held so much faith in their future together.

“But I think if something happened beforehand, I wouldn’t terribly mind it,” Suga finished, smiling brightly. His honest admission caused a number of things to happen in response: Daichi choked, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi tittered behind closed hands, and Asahi’s gaze remained fixated on Noya’s neck.

“Suga—” The beginning of Daichi’s stuttered sentence was interrupted by Tsukki’s continued muffled chuckles, low and mocking.  Daichi diverted his attention to the tall blocker, his gaze sharp. “Don’t be so quick to laugh, Tsukishima, especially considering Yamaguchi’s first heat.”

Noya had never been more proud in his captain as he watched Tsukki turn a disturbing shade of white. Although Yamaguchi’s increasingly terrified expression under the scrutiny of his four collected teammates did elicit a sheepish feeling of pity in Noya—but only a little. Wordlessly, Tsukki gripped Yamaguchi’s collar to drag him away, despite his cries of protest— _I haven’t changed yet Tsukki! Let me go!_

“What was that about?” Noya asked, staring after the two disappearing first-years.

“That was a display of excellent parenting,” Daichi said, moving past Noya to stoop low and kiss Suga quickly in greeting. “Now come on, Suga, we can go. Asahi’s locking up tonight.”

Suga was still smiling when he glanced at Noya in question, but Noya shook his head. He wouldn’t keep Suga from walking home with Daichi as he did every night.

“Go on, we’ll talk later,” Noya waved his hand.

Suga nodded in thankful appreciation. Suga slid his hand into Daichi’s when he stood and didn’t relent in his grip, even after shouldering his bag and following the alpha out of the clubroom. “Goodnight Asahi, Nishinoya!” He called out as he left, curled around Daichi’s arm.

“And make sure Kageyama and Hinata actually leave!” Daichi yelled a moment later, an unseen yet still frightening presence.

Asahi looked in the direction of his fellow third-years before finally focusing his attention of Noya. “Hi,” he said meekly, shoulders held in a protective inward slouch, hands tucked close to his body.

“Hey.”

A beat of stilted silence, and then Asahi’s commendably pitiful attempt at conversation: “What were you and Suga talking about?”

“Nothing.” It was too quick, forced.

Asahi swallowed, looking down.

Noya tried to mask how his heart beat faster, knowing Asahi’s alpha-attuned senses would register the slightest change in his pulse, or the falter in his voice. He knew his silent avoidance was unnerving Asahi, but he couldn’t fully acknowledge the alpha without fear of the situation spiralling out of control. He couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t risk losing Asahi—again.

“You ready?” Noya asked instead, moving to brusquely sling his bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

After locking up the gymnasium—following a thorough search for any sign of Kageyama or Hinata—Asahi fell into step beside Noya, walking him home. They used to do this whenever Daichi and Suga had disappeared on their own, and Tanaka had slunk home early to sullenly complete his homework. Their houses weren’t too far apart from each other, so it was simple logic.

Only Noya had never been so fixated on Asahi’s close presence. The alpha seemed to try and take up the least space as possible wherever he was, perpetually anxious he was a large, cumbersome burden to anyone. Asahi seemed to freeze under any sort of direct attention, having perfected the art of debilitating shyness at an early age.

But… as Noya had once perceived Asahi’s behaviour as cowardly, he had come to understand it was what separated him from every other person he’d known. He was kind, and quiet, and soft—nothing like the volatile, brimming aggression of alphas as a whole. Noya had scarcely felt comfortable in the single company of alphas, but Asahi… Asahi made him feel safe and warm, not shifting between his usual default emotions of wary and defensive.

Suga’s words circulated in Noya’s mind: _Are you bonded?_

Noya stopped, staring at his feet against the paved sidewalk, oblivious to Asahi’s concern, because he knew what being bonded entailed. It was that intrinsic link to another person—normally a mated pair—as an alpha’s very proximity affected an omega’s moods. It was being mentally and physically reassured by their scent, and heat, and of wanting to be closer. Of being attuned to one another.

Asahi’s hand came to rest on Noya’s arm tentatively, and he jerked backwards reflexively. Forcing himself to ignore Asahi’s wounded expression, Noya rubbed his sleeve, fingers held over the phantom imprint of Asahi’s hand.

“Noya?” Asahi asked, his voice tremoring.

“I’m fine.”

_Are you bonded?_

He knew he was hurting Asahi, that he was confusing the frustratingly caring alpha—but that was the problem. Noya had never actively sought out an alpha or felt compelled to pursue anyone he knew, but he was drawn to Asahi on a base, animal level. He dared to glance at Asahi, overwhelmed by the sudden urge to press closer, to be enveloped in the alpha’s sturdy embrace. To bear his neck so Asahi’s teeth would close over the skin, to anchor himself onto his broad shoulders, to wrap his legs around his waist, to be impossibly near to him.

“I have to go home,” Noya said suddenly, his pulse erratic, his thoughts even less controlled.

“Noya, wait, you can’t—”

It was too late, Noya had already surged forward, attempting to clear his mind. He couldn’t think, not now—not with Asahi looking intently at him, reaching for him. Because after Noya had started to run, and later when he was safely sealed in his room, he realised that the reason he had been so morose during his suspension was because of Asahi.

Not because of Asahi’s infuriating depressive stupor following Dateko’s victory, but because Noya’s body had reacted to his absence. He would’ve never have found any semblance of peace without allowing Asahi to slot into his life once again. He would’ve never felt that innate instinct to find a mate because he had always relied on volleyball to make him whole, the edges fitted together. Only now Noya had come to understand that it had never truly been volleyball that he needed, but it was a person he had shared that time with, the alpha whose warmth and kindness eased him into a natural state of contentment.

It had been pure, basic instinct—of wanting to be close to his alpha, forever at his side.

It was Asahi— _his mate._

After a restless night of studiously ignoring everything that he had so plainly felt for Asahi in the year’s prior, Noya tried to spend the next day in blissful oblivion. Pushing the very knowledge from his mind—the recurring title of _mate, mate, mate_ —was a difficult feat, but necessary for him. It was to preserve that fragile relationship he so heavily relied on in fear of destroying it completely.

He was able to forget when he was in the equally energetic company of Tanaka during class, and even Hinata during training, but he knew Suga and Tsukishima noticed how his behaviour was stiff, forced. How he laughed a little loud, or smiled a little too long.

Although when he managed to narrowly receive Asahi’s powerful spike, grinning in ecstatic triumph as the inside of his arms burned with a raw sting, he made the mistake of looking up. Asahi was smiling at him, wide and unabashed. For once, there was no trace of discomfort in his posture, he was open in his happiness—and it was directed solely onto Noya.

And Noya realised never wanted to see him not smiling, to have his anxiety overrule his desire to be generous or kind to those who deserved it and those who didn’t. Asahi was made to be the rays of sunlight after a storm, the light in the darkness, whatever other poetic nonsense that could aptly describe him, and Noya’s stomach roiled with the surge of desperate want that followed. Because he wanted to bask in Asahi’s promise of safety and strength for as long as he could, he never wanted it to stop.

“Noya?” Asahi called out, or had been calling for a while. Noya didn’t know.

“Yeah?”

Asahi ducked under the net, stepping dangerously closer to him in concern. Noya’s breath caught on a stuttered inhale, reacting to the alpha’s presence. His height. His scent. He cursed the omega stirring in him, the one which flushed hot at the heavy imprint of Asahi’s hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Asahi asked gently, leaning down.

Noya nodded vigorously, straining with the effort not to stand on his tiptoes and kiss Asahi. To do anything that would completely and irrevocably alter the course of their lives, steering them in opposite directions because of Noya’s own stupid lack of self-control. He wouldn’t put Asahi in that position, he _wouldn’t_.

Trying to steady the tremor in his voice, Noya said, “I’m fine, Asahi-san!” He punched the alpha’s arm lightly, dislodging his grip on Noya. He hated the moment something kindled in Asahi’s eyes, his touch deliberating dropping to leave Noya. It wasn’t what Noya wanted, nowhere even close, but he needed to—he had to.

Noya turned, missing how Asahi’s gaze lingered on him long after he’d joined Hinata on the outskirts of the court, raising a water bottle to his lips. And he also missed the quickened pace of Asahi’s breath that followed, trained on the slim column on Noya’s neck, still warm with the memory of the smaller omega beneath his hands.

But Asahi would never know that later that night, as Noya’s fingers curled beneath his waistband, moving secretly in the dark, punctuated by his whimpered moans—that he was thinking of the alpha. Of his solid weight bearing down over him, of the powerful yet controlled tempo of his thrusts into Noya, and of the wet, quietly reverent kisses pressed to his skin. Noya cried out Asahi’s name in an embarrassingly short amount of time, curling inwards at the realisation that the vague visions of his fantasy alpha had been Asahi for longer than he dared to contemplate.

And a few houses down, even a less number of streets over, Asahi was braced against the tiled walls of his too-small shower. One hand slid down between his legs, the image of limber, pale limbs and almond-shaped eyes in his mind, and his mouth the forming the same omega’s name he had called out for countless times before— _Noya. His._

Noya tried to adhere to his customary routine the next day; bored by the incessant drollness of study, animatedly conversing with Tanaka between classes, speaking with the same loudmouthed confidence he always had. He managed to focus the entirety of practise with Hinata, teaching the awed first-year the basics of defence, finding a reason to smile and yell in his usual exuberant fashion.

He was aware of Suga’s watchful gaze, and then Daichi’s mirrored concern, but he could remain steady under their scrutiny. It was only in the close proximity to Asahi that his heartbeat quickened, or his thin veneer of single-minded concentration faltered. Noya dared to hope none of the other alpha’s noticed the change as they were occupied, but Asahi was known to have the keenest senses, and Daichi was a close second.

During a lull in training Noya joined Kageyama in a moment of deserved respite, grateful for the setter’s likening for silence. Noya raised a water bottle to his lips to drink greedily, his gaze almost unthinkingly drawn to a set of strong thighs and large hands, of long, thick hair pulled into a bun. Noya blinked, trying to forget the rapid jerks of his hand last night in the dark, the images in his head finally coalescing into the form of Asahi above him, _inside him_.

“Noya?”

The omega choked, spittle hanging from his lips as he turned to face a standing Kageyama. He could feel his face steadily redden with embarrassment, desperately trying to stifle his instincts to release his scent, for his pheromones to not filter outwards to attract an alpha—his alpha.

He felt Kageyama’s hand rest on his shoulder, thinking how the young alpha was either too oblivious to understand what was transpiring, or that he was maybe kind enough to help.

“You okay?” Kageyama asked bluntly.

Thankfully Noya could regain control of his body before any truly drastic damage had the chance to wreak havoc. As he had never really felt the need to arch his neck in invitation, or nuzzle further into the overpowering scent of an alpha, it was seemingly easy to control it. If Asahi had been closer, the outcome may have been disastrous, spiralling into a startlingly revealing confrontation he was not equipped to handle.

“Is it Asahi?” Kageyama’s question didn’t waver.

Noya didn’t have the pretence of mind to be surprised. “Yeah. Always has been.” He frowned at the second admission, at the plain, unacknowledged truth of it.

“Do you want to talk to him?”

Shaking his head in a vigorous dismissal, Noya missed Asahi’s fleeting glance in their direction, brow furrowing at Noya and Kageyama’s seemingly intimate conversation. Asahi knew that Kageyama was already fixated on Hinata, but his premature presentation may cause the alpha to search elsewhere for an omega.

Grinding his teeth at the toxic jealousy which formed in his stomach, Asahi waited for Suga to set the ball before spiking it mercilessly, the aimless ball glancing off Daichi’s shoulder. The murderous captain turned to reprimand him, but Asahi was glad for the distraction, for anything that wasn’t Kageyama’s hand on Noya’s shoulder.

Unbeknownst to both Asahi and Noya, Kageyama had turned away from the court, his hand coming to rest by his side. He was more comfortable now that Noya’s pupils were no longer dilated, nor was his pulse so obviously frantic with the flush of arousal.

“I would suggest talking with him,” Kageyama said loftily, “because I think your worry is misplaced. On both sides.”

“What do you mean?” Noya asked, pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat beading over his forehead. He shivered as the air met the exposed skin of his stomach, and his vision was temporarily compromised by the bunched fabric of his shirt.

Abruptly, he heard Daichi’s warning shout and a following loud thud of flesh against wood, and Noya jerked his hand away to see Asahi painfully sprawled across the floor. The alpha quickly diverted his gaze from Noya’s unclothed stomach to his eyes before skittering away, his cheeks tinged by a deep, embarrassed shade of red.

“I mean that,” Kageyama affirmed, nodding pointedly in Asahi’s direction to Noya’s utter confusion.

Asahi didn’t so much as angle his head in the general vicinity of Noya for the remainder of training, but he walked him home just the same, never quite completely regaining his composure.

That night, Noya laid in bed thinking about Asahi’s increasingly nervous behaviour long afterwards, and Asahi did the same, only his thoughts were of the pale, toned muscle of Noya’s torso, and the delicate V of his abdomen.

In the alpha’s own bed, Asahi turned his face into the pillow, trying to will away the image of Noya burned into his mind, and also the scent lingering on his clothes. His efforts were futile, because Asahi could never truly forget Noya, who had buried deep beneath his skin long ago, who he knew would fit perfectly to the mould of Asahi’s body—but had he tried to forget, because Noya was his friend. He couldn’t abuse that trust, no matter how much he wanted to.

The days carried on like that between them, not entirely comfortable but never uncomfortable. Their separate year levels allowed them to think coherently for a few numbered hours separate, although practises were a dangerous affair, either too aware of the other’s movements or so pointedly avoiding each other the whole team noticed.

Noya thought that maybe their first training camp against Nekoma would be different, and offer a break in the rigid structure of his and Asahi’s awkward, increasingly confusing daily routine. Maybe the change in scenery would allow them to channel their focus on volleyball—although Noya belatedly realised that his attention had been fixated on Asahi for weeks now, that volleyball was a distant thought.

And it did succeed in distracting Noya, even if only for a few stolen moments. He and Tanaka shared a seat on the bus, and he still half-heartedly pined for Kiyoko, although he knew Tanaka was only doing it for his sake. Tanaka was the closest alpha to him, so he could read the subtle changes in his behaviour, but he had yet to pinpoint the cause. Noya both cursed and praised his inability to control his omega pheromones—he knew Tanaka would never ask, but he was scared Daichi or Asahi would.

Hinata’s excited shouts heralded their arrival to their lodgings, and light faded into night as they settled inside, dinner spent in almost seamless atmosphere of relaxed camaraderie.

Noya was almost fooled into thinking he could bear this strange pull towards Asahi, and the even more clandestine feelings he harboured, if not for the instance of showers. It was a communal area, and Noya knew in dangerous proximity to a… wet, _naked_ Asahi would only reap more trouble.

Noya only blew a sigh a relief when the third-years were given first preference to bathing—although he still swallowed thickly at the knowledge that Asahi would disrobe, that his hair would fall to his shoulders, that water run in clear rivulets over his broad frame—

“Nishinoya!” Daichi called out, startling Noya out of his shameful daze. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been leaning against the wall of their sleeping quarters, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi listening to music in companionable silence on a shared futon some distance away.

The omega stood, noticing Suga hovering at Daichi’s back, fingers clutching his shirt. He forced himself to grin, swinging his towel over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“The showers are free.”

Noya nodded and marched down the hall, oblivious to Suga’s furious whispers, and also to how Daichi pressed his nose into the silver-haired omega’s neck to placate him, nipping the skin ever so lightly. He reached the bathroom, where the dewy moisture-thick air masked most of the team’s scents. Noya could recognise Ennoshita, a calming whiff of the beta amongst the chaotic smells of matured alphas and mild omegas. Tanaka had already left, his familiar scent steadily fading against the overpowering collection of others. Noya stripped quickly before moving inside.

He greeted Ennoshita in the vision-blurring fog of steam, groping along the wall opposite the beta for an available shower tap. Noya knew he should’ve been paying attention; he knew he couldn’t have expected the whole concept of sharing communal showers with Asahi wouldn’t lead to a doomed end. He should’ve paid attention to that rise of interest inside him, reaching forward, roused to life at the barest hint of Asahi lingering nearby because—

Noya’s hand met bare, water-slick skin, fumbling along the muscled swell of a bicep, and he looked up to apologise to another second-year, but not—

Asahi.

The alpha blinked down at Noya bemusedly, like he couldn’t quite understand why Noya was here—or didn’t believe it. Noya felt his mouth drop open by its own violation, forming an awed O. He remembered trying to speak or look anywhere else, but he couldn’t, not when Asahi was there. Not when he stood tall under the streamline burst of water, muscles flexing as his fingers reached up to work conditioner through strands of his hair, arms bent at the elbow.

“Noya?”

The omega couldn’t answer. His gaze was trained on the slope of Asahi’s back instead, the breadth of his shoulders tapering to a thin waist, his frame characterised by strong, clean lines. Noya felt the overwhelming need to posture his body submissively, to arch his neck and entice Asahi into possessively nuzzling his neck, to bracing his body over Noya’s smaller one.

“Noya?” Asahi’s voice had dropped, adopting a concerned tone.

“I’m fine,” Noya managed to say, shaking his head.

Asahi’s dropped his hands, hesitating for a moment before reaching for Noya to steady him. Noya’s arm jerked impulsively, twisting the tap until water spouted from the showerhead in a sudden torrent, gushing between them. The alpha’s outstretched hand receded, and Noya ignored the pang of following disappointment because he didn’t want that, he _didn’t_.

Turning to duck his head under the water, Noya started to count his breaths, to pace them evenly. Asahi stared at him for a few tense seconds longer, fingers dangling empty by his side. The humid heat and water worked to smother the scent of Noya’s burgeoning arousal, but just barely. He was too transfixed by the presence of Asahi so near to him, a sight of slightly tanned, unmapped skin in the corner of his eye, the sticky air undercut by a faint scent of overpoweringly familiar pheromones.

Noya’s body was straining to be close to his mate, but he had to realise Asahi wasn’t his mate, that he never had been. He didn’t have the right. Noya wasn’t allowed to look, or feel, or fantasise. That was for the omega that Asahi had yet to meet, one who was perfectly matched to his meek, gentle personality, not Noya—not someone who only riled and pushed him.

After Ennoshita left, Noya heard Asahi speak, softer this time, almost understanding: “Noya, look at me.”

Noya closed his eyes tightly before gritting his teeth and finally looking at Asahi. The alpha smiled at him, easing the knotted worry in Noya’s stomach, unlocking his muscles. And then Asahi reached out, committed to making contact, his palm coming to rest heavily over the curve of Noya’s exposed neck. His thumb rubbed a light pressure over the skin beneath Noya’s jaw, and—wait, no, _not there_ , _no—_

Unable to curb his worn-thin instincts, Noya sighed shakily as Asahi’s ministrations triggered a release of pheromones. His fingers wound around Asahi’s wrist to warn him, but he knew his scent had already flooded the air, filling it with his hopeless want.

“Asahi-san, I—” Noya halted as he felt Asahi’s thumb still against his neck, reluctantly raising his eyes to find Asahi’s. “I didn’t mean to—” Noya’s gasp sliced through the building tension of the air as he watched the alpha’s pupils dilate, fingernails moving unbidden to dig just a little deeper in Noya’s flesh.

And Noya knew he was already falling, plummeting over that last precipice as he swayed forward, still only held afloat by the stabilising grip on the alpha’s arm. Judging by the surplus of Noya’s sweeter scent, Asahi was restraining his own, composed despite Noya’s rapidly unwinding control. But Asahi still dipped forward, aiming for the offered skin of Noya’s neck, driven by the insatiable need to mark and claim what was his. Noya’s breathing quickened, his back arcing into a delicate bow as his bright eyes flickered to Asahi’s darkened own, finding desire reflected there.

But then footsteps echoed down the hall, approaching them.

They stilled, terrified, before shattering.

The scant space between Asahi’s mouth and Noya’s neck widened, a hollow void stretching between them as they separated, the pulse of animalistic instinct fading. Noya panted, staring fixedly at the shower tap as he forced his heartbeat to slow, ignoring Asahi as he rested his head over his bent arms against the wall.

He blinked, unable to comprehend how close they’d been to… bonding. _Mating_. Noya was sickened by how much he had wanted it to happen—how much he still did—but nothing was more devastating. Not rejection, not the one-sided attraction scared him, but the knowledge that now he’d ruined it did. He’d almost coerced Asahi into committing to a relationship he never wanted. Asahi had been _seconds_ away from forever tying them together, because Noya had been too weak-willed to restrain himself, to hold the omega within him at bay.

Noya shut the water off and rushed outside, barely stopping to dry himself as he dressed, Kinoshita and Narita lumbering towards him further down the hall. He brushed by them, continuing his determined trek onwards even when he knocked shoulders with one of them. At the end of the hallway he stopped for a beat longer, but Asahi didn’t come, so he refused to wait, ignoring the hot sting of tears.

He moved on autopilot, finding the strength to grin even when he intercepted a screaming Tanaka and Hinata, who thought he was some kind of small demon. Noya felt his own fiery spark return as Tanaka and Hinata discovered his hair added to his small height, but then there was a presence at his back, and a weight at his shoulder and—

Asahi was telling them to be quiet in fear of Daichi’s wrath, resulting in a chorus of horrified screams as Hinata and Tanaka didn’t recognise the alpha as Noya did. Instantly, with a startling, innate clarity, his entire body quaked with the recent memory of what Asahi’s touch had evoked within him.

Somewhere from within the building Daichi yelled for them to shut up, and Noya took his chance to slip out from under Asahi’s hand. He didn’t dare look back as he hooked his thin arm around Tanaka’s neck and pulled him towards their sleeping area, Asahi diligently following at a deliberately slower pace.

After having to bow their heads in apology to a stern Daichi, Noya made a beeline for his futon. His mouth tightened at the positon; closest to the window, slotted next to Tanaka and opposite Asahi. Noya crawled under his bed, cocooning his body in the swath of blankets as the room’s occupants were otherwise occupied—Tanaka was wrestling Ennoshita to the ground, and Suga was resting between Daichi’s thighs as he talked to Asahi in hushed tones.

Noya turned to face the wall, hiding his head in the comforting shroud of laundered blackness. It wasn’t underlying embarrassment and bitter rejection that made tears appear at the edge of his vision, but the crushing weight of Asahi’s loss. He had sabotaged what little future they could’ve shared together, even though Noya knew that Asahi would leave after he graduated, and he would forget Noya too. Because Asahi deserved an omega who was just as kind and humble as him, and a family, and everything he would never see in Noya.

The lights flickered off, and Daichi called out for curfew in ten minutes.

Then, Noya felt fingers thread tentatively though his damp hair, massaging his scalp gently. He tipped his chin upwards, blinking at the sight of shoulder-length hair framing Asahi’s tenuous smile. It was gentle, fragile.

Hot tears slipped down Noya’s cheeks, because Asahi would be forever out of his reach, much too good for him. Asahi dropped to his knees in alarm, brushing Noya’s dyed fringe from his forehead. His hands were large and broad, callouses speaking of hard work and toil, cupping the side of Noya’s face in an effort to soothe, not break.

“Asahi—”

“I’m sorry,” Asahi said suddenly, too-loud in the quiet murmurs of the room.

Noya stilled, feeling Asahi’s thumb swipe the wet trails from his skin. “What?”

“I-I’m sorry for what happened in th-the bathroom, I—” he looked frustrated with himself, jaw held in a tight lock. “I didn’t ever m-mean to make you feel uncomfortable, o-or scare you.”

“You didn’t.”

Asahi looked stunned at the firm insistence of Noya’s voice, and then confused. “What? But I—”

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want, Asahi-san,” Noya continued, hands surfacing from the blankets to grasp Asahi’s wrists. He could see the panic rising in the warm brown of his eyes, and knew that Asahi would flounder in the face of something that loomed over him, that threatened to shake the very ground beneath his feet.

The alpha seemed committed to the idea of remaining silent, allowing Noya free rein to speak at his own will. Noya sighed, belatedly glancing around the room to find Tanaka’s quizzical expression and Suga’s watchful gaze both directed at him. The conjoined intensity of their attention prompted Noya to release Asahi. He felt a keen ache at the loss of contact, and Asahi seemed to mirror his own disappointment, fingers dropping to chase Noya’s before he reeled them back.

Tanaka moved from Ennoshita’s side to approach the two of them, causing Noya to sit up and Asahi to shuffle back self-consciously, already planning an excuse to explain how close they were, and why they had touched. However, Tanaka merely slipped into his waiting bed with nothing more than a sly comment to keep the noise down.

The corner of Noya’s mouth curled wryly in the dark as Asahi coughed in an embarrassing splutter, a furious blush painting his cheeks red. Only once Tanaka had turned over and begun snoring—either genuine or exaggerated, the world would never know—did Noya dare to speak.

“You don’t need to apologise for what happened.” At Asahi’s wide, terrified expression Noya moved forward to lay a placating hand on his arm. It was barely an explanation to his reaction, yet he couldn’t quite say how his skin still tingled with the memory of Asahi’s touch. Or how heat unfurled low in his stomach now at the sight of his hair hanging loose over his shoulders, broad shoulders straining the fabric of his soft cotton shirt.

“I don’t want t-to hurt you just because I can’t c-control myself,” Asahi stated weakly, looking down at where their knees touched intimately.

“Stop saying that.”

“But you’re important to me, Noya. I c-can’t risk ever losing you based on some stupid, selfish impulse, not even if…” Asahi trailed off, shaking his head dismissively. “What I feel d-doesn’t matter. It never really has.”

Noya’s mouth twisted at Asahi’s self-deprecation, tightening his grip just slightly on the alpha’s burly arm. He hated that he never wanted to stop touching Asahi, that he never wanted to let go of him, but he couldn’t articulate more than a pitiful, “Don’t say that. I don’t ever want to hear you speak like that again.”

There was a shaky exhale of unsteady air, and then Noya felt Asahi’s head bump his. He opened his eyes—he hadn’t even realised he’d closed them—to see Asahi looking at him with a bashful gratitude, his smile a vulnerable line of emotion. Asahi’s fingers closed around the front of Noya’s shirt, their foreheads pressed together despite the whole team amassed around them, feigning oblivious sleep.

And then, there was an easing in the tension stretched taught between them, and Noya almost didn’t notice how Asahi’s pheromones lingered in his nostrils, triggered to comfort the omega. It was normally a gesture of trust only mates practised, but Noya refused to analyse more than that, he _did_. Asahi relied on their friendship for strength, both on the court and off, and Noya didn’t want to jeopardise that for some frivolous crush. Not even if this night would offer enough source material for every fantasy he would shamefully entertain in the near future.

“Don’t worry,” Noya said quietly, “I’m always gonna be standing behind you, no matter what it is.”

Asahi huffed a small laugh, nosing Noya tentatively, playfully. Grinning, Noya allowed their gentle teasing to subside, and Asahi’s hands gravitated from Noya’s shirt to his neck. Resting there, serving as a reminder of how close Asahi had been to that same length of his neck before, teeth ready to claim him on a level deeper than companionship.

“I’ve always relied on you, Noya-san,” Asahi replied solemnly. “More than I should’ve.”

Tears brimmed at the edges of Noya’s vision again. “I can’t lose you.” He whispered the admission like it was a secret, although it should’ve been treated like a revelation, a moment where sun crested the horizon, light erasing dark. Because this—Asahi pressed close to him, quiet and sturdy—was everything Noya would ever need.

“I love you,” Asahi said, like it was simple.

A sob rose in Noya’s throat, but it never made it past his lips. “I love you too.”

He didn’t kiss Asahi, he didn’t try to push at the boundaries of what this was, because right now it was enough. It wouldn’t always be this easy to bear, or so seemingly uncomplicated. But Noya was happy now, before Asahi eventually moved on without him, and he had to watch the alpha begin his own life with someone else, someone who wasn’t him.

Noya felt a breath of damp air against his mouth, and he looked up to find that Asahi had been staring at him, for how long he didn’t know. There was an imperceptible shift, and Asahi’s knees pressed harder into Noya’s, and the omega felt himself lean him further into his embrace. Asahi’s arms slid down to spread across Noya’s lower back, and Noya’s back arched into a sinuous bow as he strained to full height so he was eye-level with Asahi.

The atmosphere seemed to adopt the same thrum of volatile electricity it did in the showers, but now Noya wasn’t scared, nor did he have to fight the incessant war drum of his heartbeat. He trusted Asahi, and in this moment he could believe that Asahi wanted to kiss him. He could trick himself into thinking that it was more than a customary reaction of an alpha in close proximity to an omega, not Asahi dipping forward to kiss Noya because he _wanted_ to.

Although there was no hesitant whisper of contact, no grand declarations of something more than a plutonic bond between friends. Asahi seemed to release a lengthy exhale, all his courage seeming to bleed out in that rush of air, and he dropped his forehead onto Noya’s shoulder. After a pregnant pause the omega ran his fingers through Asahi’s hair, his saddened smile hidden in Asahi’s brown strands and the dark shadows of the room.

The two of them—still drawn together although never once recognising why—separated and moved to their own beds, both trying desperately to forget—Asahi blinking to clear the sight of tears in Noya’s golden eyes, and Noya’s fingers grasping empty sheets. Suga waited a few minutes before slipping from his own respective bed to Daichi’s. The alpha welcomed his body with a familiar murmur of greeting, making a pleased noise as Suga nuzzled into his neck, seeking his scent.

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Suga asked sleepily, sliding a leg between Daichi’s.

The captain murmured a garbled reply, words muffled by Suga’s silver hair. He tugged Suga to him without conscious thought, blearily tired after acting as a father figure to the whole team throughout the day, coherent enough only to want Suga close and nothing else.

Suga palm rested over Daichi’s stomach, closing his eyes. “I hope so too.”


	2. The Smell Of Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noya learns just how much Asahi means to him, and how much he is willing to sacrifice for him. And how much he isn't.

However, all remnants of Suga’s festering doubts concerning the fragile state of Asahi and Noya’s almost-something root the next day. The silver-haired setter watched as a vicious spike had made it past Tsukishima’s block to deflect off Daichi’s rare clumsy receives, and Noya had desperately dived for it, causing the volleyball to follow a high arc upwards on impact. The angle was askew, and awkward, but Noya called for Asahi, and the ace had seemed to have moved before the ball had even bounced off the pale underside of Noya’s forearms.

Propelled into the air by inertia and the strong foundation of power in his thighs, Asahi jumped—no, he _flew_. His palm fit perfectly into the curved surface of the volleyball, slamming through the block, the contact of leather hitting polished wood an earth-shattering sound.

Even though the match was far from over, and the odds were tipped precariously in their Nekoma’s favour, it was a triumph for the newly formed team. Asahi took heaving breaths, laughing as Daichi’s broad hand slapped his shoulder in a display of enthusiastic cheer. The alpha also dimly recognised the sounds of Tanaka and Hinata’s congratulatory screams before a fast-moving figure leaped in his direction.

Asahi reached forward instinctively, arms encircling a small, thinly-muscled body he was accustomed to admiring but never touching. He stumbled backwards at the sheer force of Noya unexpectedly barrelling into him, but Asahi held him securely as Noya’s legs wound around his waist, a laughing grin pressed to Asahi’s cheek.

“Asahi-san!” Noya was shouting in unbridled excitement, clinging to the alpha. “You did it!”

“I did,” Asahi said, the cacophonous jubilance of his team drowning out his words.

As Noya’s forehead dropped to rest against Asahi’s, there was a moment where their eyes met and no part of their body wasn’t connected. In that fragment of time Noya was surrounded by everything that made Asahi who he was—standing victorious on the volleyball court, quietly happy, a source of warmth and stability.

Then, Suga was sure that the moment would finally spiral into what the two of them had been chasing for so long, and so he waited, but instead he watched it fall, and recede back into nothing. Asahi tentatively lowered Noya onto the ground, fingers skating across his trim waist and brushing his outstretched hands, before the alpha turned away with a pronounced swallow.

And it was over.

Noya panted heavily, following the same endless cycle he seemed forever resigned to, staring intently at the retreating wall of Asahi’s back. The omega’s listless gaze found Suga’s, and Noya’s conciliatory smile was strained and too-bright, a pitiful glimmer of his usual self under the harsh overhead lights.

It was twisted, wrong, but it was the only thing Noya could safely offer. When everyone had settled into their prior positions, a sharp whistle echoing across the court, Noya’s façade had been fixed into a permanent mask. His eyes glinted with the same birdlike brilliance, his grins and shouts remained, but he hardly spoke to Suga, and didn’t even dare to look at Asahi.

Once during a quick timeout, Noya caught the focused gaze of Nekoma’s setter, a frail omega who seemed out of place on the court, but his gaze was sharp and analytical like Tsukishima’s. Those golden cat-like eyes blinked at him slowly, seeming to scrutinise Noya for a moment too long, but then the black-haired captain touched the setter’s shoulder lightly to draw his attention. Noya watched as the omega on the other side of the net tipped his head to the side subtly, bleached ends of his hair falling to expose a slim expanse of skin at his neck.

With a shallow gasp Noya realised he had mirrored the same gesture earlier that day, and at Karasuno countless times before, only his alpha tremulously smiled instead of confidently smirked. But Nekoma’s captain moved to drop his hand, his casual aloofness seeming to waver for the first time since he and Daichi had shook hands outside. The setter—Kenma, quiet and small, almost a perfect omega—didn’t look in Noya’s direction again, but he felt the uneasy prickle of the unfamiliar weight of interest on him for the remainder of the training camp.

Noya almost entertained the idea of approaching the omega, because he’d noticed the deliberate distance between Kenma and his captain, the fleeting touches and unsure, skittering gazes. Their relationship seemed to be more stable than his and Asahi’s, but Noya had never found the courage to take a step towards the happily reserved setter, and so his smile was the same one Suga had witnessed before—the pale imitation of his usual self.

And it could’ve been easy to pretend like it was okay, but it wasn’t painless. So, Noya dryly swallowed the pronounced lump in his throat the first time Asahi noticed Noya flinch from his touch at the end of their first camp, rather than move into it. He hated every single part of himself as witnessed Asahi’s tenuous self-assurance around Noya give way to his customary fear and shame when he was in the company of strangers.

Noya knew that Asahi would think he had done something horribly wrong to make Noya shy away from him, that he’d continually remove himself from Noya’s life until the space between them was so wide and unfamiliar it could never be breached again. Noya would despise the separation, but it was all he could do—because Asahi didn’t deserve someone in his life who was ruled by petty jealousy, he didn’t need that.

And Noya allowed his feelings to fester, to rot deep in his heart as he watched his alpha put a carefully constructed distance between them out of misplaced guilt. It was fine, it was _bearable_ , until—

“Noya?” Asahi asked as they tailed the group boarding the bus home, wanting to reach out but never finding the courage. His name wasn’t phrased as a question though—it was a last attempt to rectify a wrong that didn’t exist, to find that fragile, symbiotic understanding of their first night during the camp.

“Don’t, Asahi,” Noya managed to grit out between clenched teeth, tremoring.

“Nishinoya—”

His sentence was cut short, left incomplete and frayed as Noya clambered aboard the bus and barged forward, elbowing Tanaka aside to press close to the window seat. He didn’t look up away from the glass surface even when Suga whispered to a confused Tanaka to take his seat beside Daichi, or when Hinata turned around in front of him to ask what was wrong. But he knew that Asahi did take the seat at the front, opposite Tanaka and Daichi.

The tense silence was punctuated by Tsukishima and Yamaguchi conversing over the music blaring loudly from a pair of earbuds they shared, and Hinata’s and Kageyama provoking Daichi’s wrath after their childish bickering disturbed the vehicle’s quiet interior. The comforting presence of another omega calmed Noya, but Suga only pretended that he thought Noya was asleep for half the trek before he spoke, ignoring how his friend’s shoulders tensed on reflex.

“You don’t smell like him anymore,” Suga’s voice was pitched low so only Noya could hear.

“What?” His veins hummed with a violent rhythm, nausea rising in the omega’s stomach. Noya had been cast adrift the moment he’d pointedly avoided Asahi’s first expression of confused hurt, but now it was a tangible emotion, one that threatened to rise in his throat like poisonous bile.

“You don’t smell like Asahi.”

Noya realised he’d relinquished his view from the passing scenery to look at Suga, but he couldn’t seem to move. He forced himself to blink, shaking the thought of Asahi from his head—he remembered his scent so vividly it made his roiling insides settle automatically, but he had to forget, he _had to_.

He answered, “I’m not meant to smell like him. I never was.”

“But it’s the scent you want to carry with you, isn’t it?” Suga queried, offering Noya the first genuine smile that’d been directed at him in days. “It’s the one you want to never leave your skin, your clothes, your home. And I’m sure you’ve never believed in mates, not even when you met him, but then…” Suga shook his head, focused on another memory of the dark-haired boy seated ahead, of kissing him for the first time over unfinished homework. “There was a moment where you realised that whatever future you wanted, you wanted him in it.”

“I can’t be you and Daichi,” Noya argued, too exhausted to be angry, “at least not with him.”

“There’s only ever gonna be you and Asahi, Noya.”

“We’re not anything!” Noya hissed in needless frustration. He was so tired he felt the tell-tale pinpricks of tears in his eyes, wetness soon sliding over his cheeks. “It’s impossible to even be around when I’m like this. I just can’t risk doing anything that would hurt him.”

“Did you even consider how much this is hurting him now? Whatever you feel, he feels tenfold. An omega can learn to love again after their mate dies, but an alpha never will. Their innate protectiveness is so deeply ingrained they can only bond once.” Suga wasn’t angry, but his voice had adopted a warning defensive tone.

“I know that, Suga, but this affects me too, and I—” He choked on a stifled sob, restraining his spiralling emotions. “I just can’t do this knowing I could lose him.”

“If you keep doing this then you’re going to lose him.”

At Noya’s stunned silence, Suga feigned a sleepy yawn and curled into his seat, giving the other omega time to process. Grateful for the offer of privacy, Noya wiped the cuff of his sleeve across his cheeks in a brusque motion, inhaling sharply. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the weight of Suga’s words, on the decisions he needed to make, because Noya couldn’t possibly continue to avoid his feelings altogether, and Asahi didn’t deserve to suffer because of it.

They finally reached Karasuno, and Coach Ukai promised them free pork buns after their next practise before sending them on their way home. All the first-years soon split into their own groups and started languidly walking in the direction of their respective homes, although Kageyama and Hinata’s simmering rivalry—companionship; deep-rooted emotions; whatever you wanted to call it—soon prompted a heated race. Daichi shouted at them to slow down, pointing out how stupid it was to run in the dark, before falling in step beside Suga. Tanaka and the other second-years had also yelled their goodbyes a while ago, keen to return home.

Noya had usually walked back to his house with Asahi, because they always had, because it had been their thing to do, but now he pushed on forwards. He turned his back on the small gathering of third-years, ignoring how Asahi abortively surged forward to follow him, and Noya begun to make the brisk trek home, hands tucked into his pockets.

He had never liked silence, or the dark—it was too contemplative, like it expected grander things than the humdrum of daily life—but Noya had to bear it. Despite the usual noise and energy that characterised the soul of Noya as a person, he felt tired, almost worn thin around the edges. He didn’t focus on the fleeting moment of simple comfort he had found with Asahi’s forehead pressed to his that night as the air was electric with possibility—he couldn’t.

Barely a decent stone’s throw from the school Noya realised he had been crying, and not even three strides later he heard the sound of steadily approaching footsteps from behind. He wiped at his cheeks in frustration, thinking maybe the person was Suga continuing in his single-minded crusade to help Noya, but he raised his nose in the air a little too late, catching a whiff of tea leaves and soft cotton.

The footsteps slowed, and stopped completely. “Nishinoya—”

The omega couldn’t tell him no again, he couldn’t hurt his alpha any more than he already had. Noya had never coped well with Asahi close by, he could never settle on both feet and expect to jump without falling. And so, he felt Asahi’s presence linger at his back, and after a deep breath he faced the very person he’d been so desperately avoiding.

“Noya,” Asahi started, already losing his short-lived bravado. His collar was rumpled, like he’d been nervously toying with it the entire ride home, riddled with a sick sense of building guilt and anxiety. “If th-this is about what happened in t-the showers, I’m sorry. If i-it’s not, I’m sorry about whatever I did th-that upset you, and if it’s m-me then—”

Noya’s sniffles soon deepened into a wet sob that cut Asahi’s weak ramblings off, and his hands moved across his face with a harsh swipe. He hated crying, hated the whole streaming mess of snot and tears he became, a vivid red staining his pale cheeks. But, at the core of it, he hated that Asahi had to watch him break apart, either drifting too close or standing too far, always a burden upon the alpha’s shoulders.

“I didn’t mean it-t, Noya,” Asahi said feebly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” Noya managed to argue.

A tentative touch to his cheek startled Noya, whose eyes had been tightly closed before. “But you’re crying.” Asahi’s voice was more gentle than his fingertips against Noya’s skin, and for the first time he was confident in one aspect, no longer shy or unsure in his movements.

Noya unconsciously turned his head into Asahi’s hand, lips kissing his spread fingers before exhaling, the sound strained. Asahi made a noise of concern, relying on physical communication rather than verbal, stepping closer to Noya. It was easier than speaking, than trying to explain his behaviour over the past few days.

“I’m sorry,” Noya whispered, a broken cry punctuating his apology. His shoulders shook, and continued shaking as he felt his defences crumble under Asahi’s soothing ministrations, the foundations of his repressed emotions finally giving way in the comforting darkness.

He may have repeated his apology, but it was muffled through a mouthful of fabric as Asahi pressed closer, attuned to the— _his_ —omega’s distress. And they both knew only mates could so acutely understand each other’s emotional needs, but again it wasn’t the right moment to address that, it never seemed to be.

Asahi’s arms encircled Noya entirely, his solid, familiar warmth and scent enveloping him in a relieved sigh of _finally_. Clutching desperately at the front of Asahi’s jacket, Noya allowed himself to cry in an expression of his anger and fear and guilt. A subtle hint of Asahi’s pheromones filtering through the confined space, calming Noya, smoothing his frayed nerves almost instantly.

“I’m sorry,” Noya said again as he pulled back, still firmly enclosed within Asahi’s embrace. He found the alpha’s brown eyes, shining down at him with open worry, and comfort. Noya pressed closer in an effort to assuage his fretful anxiety, and their bodies slid closer in a natural, blissful fit

“I love you.” It was the same thing Asahi had said during training camp, but now it felt different, the words heavy with implication. Maybe he hadn’t been speaking so plainly that night, maybe he was saying what Noya yearned to hear but refused to accept.

“I do, I mean—” Noya licked his lips, overwhelmed with the sheer proximity of Asahi. “I love you too.”

Asahi stiffened for a moment, his parted lips never quite shaping a question circulating in his head. Bumping his head to Asahi’s arm, Noya flashed him an impish—if watery—smile in encouragement to speak freely.

“Are you bonded?” Asahi asked, awkwardly, as if he was braced for an unpleasant reply.

“No.”

A slight widening of his gaze. “But I heard you talking to Suga once—”

“I’m waiting for someone, Asahi. He’s… very important to me.”

“He shouldn’t mean anything less to you,” Asahi remarked quietly, and Noya truly didn’t know if he was talking about himself or not. Now he seemed content with brushing an errant tear from Noya’s cheek, in the simple knowledge that he could hold him right now.

So instead Noya burrowed into Asahi’s chest to seek the meagre comfort Asahi could provide, in protecting the charade he didn’t have the strength to confront just yet. Asahi just held onto him for long enough until Noya could follow the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, lulled into security, his eyelids dropping with exhaustion after days of tirelessly maintaining that façade. Time passed, enough for Asahi to glance surreptitiously at his watch, his troubled frown almost audible.

Although Noya wanted to say _kiss me_ , or an even more dangerous _stay with me,_ he uttered a hoarse, “You can go. It’s late.” He leaned backwards, blinking owlishly to fight off the freefalling pull of sleep.

Asahi paused, like he wanted to say something equally as earthshattering, but his chin dropped forward in defeat as he spoke. “Can I still walk you to school?” He asked anyway.

Noya shook his head at Asahi’s needless question, bantering with, “You can walk me home too.”

A soft laugh echoed through the deserted neighbourhood, followed by an uncharacteristically heartfelt goodbye, one that was only shared between mates, not friends. And, for once, Noya felt a slow burn of appreciation and assurance rather than desolate hopelessness as he watched Asahi walk away.

The last thing Noya remembered before he stumbled into his bed was the faraway glance Asahi cast over his shoulder, and the blurred shape of his beautiful smile in the dim light.

The next day Asahi walked Noya to and from his house, and it wasn’t strained or laden with an undercurrent of volatile feeling, it was a careful build to that _something more_.

And after, Asahi’s fingers brushed his at the first glimmer of the following dawn, and later Noya rested his forehead against Asahi’s bicep during training, and they both smiled at each other under a healthy exertion of sweat and silent understanding.

And then, the day after, Noya felt that maybe Asahi did know who meant so much to him, and why he had been acting so weirdly—how it had always because of him, always around _him_. In the familiar setting of volleyball training, acquainted with the grunting and squeaking of rubber over lacquered wood, Noya stood in position behind Asahi and realised what had been so blatantly obvious.

Asahi would forever be a constant in his life—and he had been, without fault. No one else could claim that Asahi hadn’t protectively hovered over Noya for most of their time shared together, and that Noya hadn’t sought his attention with gaudy displays, that they hadn’t been leaning, almost _careening_ , towards each other for much too long now.

And—Asahi loved Noya. That much was clear.

His gaze flickered from the outline of Asahi’s clothed back to the volleyball soaring over the net in a destructive arc, and Noya instinctively moved to follow it. The ball flew past him, bouncing off Daichi’s unusually sloppy receive, and Noya dove after the centred point of both side’s attention, making solid contact. He shouted for a chance ball, watching in awe as Asahi had already moved to meet the ball’s trajectory, slamming his hand forward with a powerhouse reserve of strength and control.

It broke the waiting block, the practise match tipping precariously in their favour as Ukai blew the whistle shrilly. Exhilarated victory flooded Noya’s veins, and then he hardly had time to think before he approached Asahi, rallied by the knowledge that the alpha had placed so much trust in him as a libero during the match. And Asahi was turning around, pre-emptively expecting Noya to shout in celebration of Asahi’s spike, or slap his arm in good nature. However, Noya gravitated towards Asahi with a single-minded purpose, smiling as he fisted his shirt, and strained upwards as he jerked Asahi down to him.

Their lips met to an echoing chant— _finally, finally, finally._

Noya pulled backwards to the sound of his own roaring heartbeat, and the drizzle of rain outside, and the stolen warmth of Asahi’s lips a tangible memory rather than a fantasy now. It was real. As solid and hot and alive as the flesh heaving beneath Noya’s hands, as the thudding beat of Asahi’s heart hidden even deeper.

Hands raising to clutch Noya’s thin wrists, Asahi stared down at the omega with an openly shocked expression. Asahi blinked, confusion clouding his gaze, although the corners of his mouth twitched into a pleased curve. He moved to speak, but no words made it past the stifled seam of his lips.

Noya watched the gladdened surprise ebb from Asahi’s expression, replaced by doubt and cowardice. He relented his grip on Asahi’s shirt, allowing his hands to drop in defeat. His lips still blazed with heat.

“Asahi, Nishinoya!” Daichi called out, this time acting without Suga’s concerned insistence. “Take five outside.”

The libero dared to glance at Asahi again, but he was focused on the floor to the side, anywhere that wasn’t currently occupied by a panting, wide-eyed omega. Noya stepped backwards, refusing to acknowledge the dreadful twist of his insides as he turned his back to Asahi. He swiped his water bottle from the ground before stepping outside, taking a seat on one end of the cement stoop at the gym’s entrance. Noya constrained the urge to lean his head in Asahi’s direction as he heard a heavier tread of footsteps hesitantly approach him, the alpha’s large frame curling inwards in an unconscious effort to seem less threatening.

Looking ahead, Noya tried to ignore own discomfort in the halting silence that followed.

_Asahi sifted in his seat, shoulders drawn together tensely._

_“D-did you-u—” Asahi had looked helplessly down at his hands then, swallowing thickly._

_“I like you,” Noya announced, seized with courage, because the only thing he could do now was lay every last piece of himself bare._

_Asahi exhaled, his shoulders seeming to drop even further, and he turned to Noya with a pronounced slowness. Instead of the rejection Noya was braced for, Asahi’s answering smile was lopsided and shy. It was a warm assurance, an outward expression of fondness that made Noya’s heart ache with the sincerity of it._

_He wasn’t prepared for the alpha to lean over the short space separating him and Noya, not at all. Leaning his elbow on the cement stoop, Asahi dipped his chin low, so he was eye-level with Noya, breathtakingly close._

_Noya’s gasp was no more than a quiver, lips forming Asahi’s name with a silent reverence before his attempts to speak were muffled by the hesitant press of Asahi’s lips. Even when he was initiating contact, Asahi remained quiet and meek, straining to be the least hindrance possible._

_The rain beat down against the earth with an increased fervour, the sound slowly dulling to a muted rush as Noya focused on the fact that_ _Asahi was kissing him_ _. He sat there, completely immobilised in front of the gym. Asahi’s mouth was on his, that was Asahi’s hand cupping his thigh, that was a strand of his hair tickling Noya’s cheek. It was him—the man Noya thought of as his alpha, his mate._

_Overwhelmed, the scent of alpha filled Noya’s senses, familiar and mellow, causing the omega within Noya to melt under Asahi’s attention. There was an unwinding in his chest, a slow submission to the overpowering biological instinct to bare his neck, to press closer, to allow Asahi to claim him fully._

_A whimper rose in his throat at the thought of Asahi’s bare skin against his, at the heady joining of their bodies. He felt Asahi pull away, and Noya lunged forward, desperate to remain close._

_“It’s okay,” Asahi murmured, kissing Noya light in appeasement. “I’m not going anywhere—”_

_“Then kiss me, alpha,” Noya near begged. “Please.”_

Asahi’s pupils widened at Noya’s breathy use of the word _alpha_ , gaze dropping to the inviting seam of his mouth. “But…” He could hardly speak, nonetheless speak. “Not here, Noya. If we do—” Asahi shook his head as if to dispel his thoughts, tense with restraint.

“Later?” Noya prompted, unashamed of his blatant eagerness.

Asahi managed to nod, unwilling to release Noya just yet. He waited for the enticing swell of both their pheromones to fade in the humid air, withholding every instinct to lean forward and kiss Noya, knowing the omega was barely doing the same himself.

A thumb ran over the curve of Noya’s exposed thigh, not to tease, but to delight in the simple pleasure of touch. “Do you—” Noya halted, still unfamiliar with the newfound ability to reach out and find Asahi’s smile waiting for him, lightheaded with the sheer ease of it. “Do you like me?”

Never cruel enough to laugh under such serious circumstances, Asahi only feathered butterfly kisses over Noya’s cheeks, and nose, and forehead in reply. The action instantly placated the anxious omega, but both Asahi and Noya were again too blissfully distracted to recognise the importance of their perfectly balanced emotions.

“Noya, I love you.”

His grin was alarming in its brightness, arms winding around Asahi’s neck in unbridled happiness. Noya heard quiet laughter near his ear, a steady breath over his neck. Again, Asahi withdrew marginally, so there was enough distance to refrain from freefalling into what they had so painfully hidden before.

“I love you too,” Noya announced loudly, happily.

Later, Suga opened the door to find Asahi and Noya resting against each other, like always, but it was different now. Instead of the careful space and furtive glances shared between them, Asahi’s hand was a protective brand on Noya’s thigh, and also Noya’s chin on Asahi’s shoulder.

The slow upwards curve of Suga’s lips was glad, and relieved. He called out to his two enamoured teammates, making an internal note to remind Daichi later that his natural intuitions always proved to be true. He tried to ignore how Noya excitedly grabbed for Asahi’s hand when they stood up, seemingly elated with the mere fact he could do that with Asahi now.

However, the team’s attempts of controlling their wide-eyed stares were unfortunately more obvious than Tsukishima’s initial unconcerned nod, or the flash of Kageyama’s sharp grin. Tanaka dropped the ball with a dramatic thud, Hinata made loud noise of excited exclaim as he clutched Yamaguchi’s arm, and the pinch server was equally as astounded. Daichi opened his mouth to yell at them for ignoring training before Suga grabbed his arm, turning the captain to see Asahi and Noya—the libero was perched on his tiptoes as the ace dipped down to kiss his waiting lips, a hand curling over his neck.

Daichi threw Suga one glance, noting the silver-haired omega’s grin of pleased satisfaction before rolling his eyes. He clapped his hands together, shouting, “Okay! Now it has been made evidently clear that Asahi had wanted to pursue that shougo manga romance nonsense with Nishinoya just as much as he did with Asahi, can we move on?” The team was spurred into action, thankful that both adult supervisors had taken a moment to step outside, Ukai finally talking to Takeda instead of staring at him with dumb awe.

“You used to look at me like that,” Suga said to Daichi later, during a lull between exercises. Daichi frowned, glancing over to see Noya pull Asahi down by his shirt, both of them grinning widely, as if they were perfectly happy to act so disgustingly domestic.

The captain turned to his setter, worried that his lack of public displays of affection made Suga feel insecure about their relationship. Daichi dropped his lips to Suga’s ear and said, “Who says I don’t do that when you’re not looking?” Suga flushed at Daichi’s words, shrieking as he felt Daichi’s fingers slip beneath the hem of his loose shorts.

“That’s cute,” Yamaguchi sighed, looking at Suga playfully fight off Daichi’s advances from across the court. Between Daichi and Suga’s long-established relationship, and Asahi and Noya’s burgeoning romance, Yamaguchi was only made more aware that he didn’t have anyone like that. Tanaka was content with entertaining himself, Kageyama and Hinata were too stubbornly focused on each other for there to ever be anyone else, and the other second-years frightened him, save for the calm beta Ennoshita.

Yamaguchi stilled, thinking of the one person he had so determinedly ignored thinking about—

_Tsukishima._

He dared to turn, catching a fleeting glance of the cold blonde standing at his elbow, taking a long drink of water. The tall blocker caught his gaze, once again proving he was too perceptive for his own good.

“What?” Tsukki demanded, and Yamaguchi wasn’t staring at the line of sweat rolling down his neck, _he wasn’t_.

“Um, I was just saying, that—” Yamaguchi looked away, flushed, embarrassed. “That I thought it was cute that, you know, Daichi has Suga, and Asahi has Nishinoya now, because it’s—it’s nice to have someone.”

Tsukki drew back, holding himself still.

“Did you want someone?” He asked bluntly.

“No, not like that,” Yamaguchi explained, his averted gaze failing to notice how Tsukki breathed a relieved sigh. “I just like the idea of knowing someone was there for me,” he paused, and then said bravely, “like you were during my heat.”

They didn’t talk about it, how Tsukki had sat on the other side of Yamaguchi’s bedroom door during the first hours of a heat he hadn’t prepared for, waiting for the thrum of arousal to fade. He’d taken suppressants late, resulting in growing hot and flustered at school, anxiously tugging Tsukki into the bathroom to say he was going into heat. Tsukki had barely held himself together as he guided Yamaguchi home, holding him up, so close he felt like pushing the omega into the wall and claiming him right then and there. But after Yamaguchi had waited alone in his room, wanting nothing more than Tsukki to open his door as he slowly gained control of his body, and Tsukki went home with an unconfident murmur of goodbye.

“You don’t need anyone,” Tsukki heard himself say, noticing Yamaguchi flinch at his flat tone. Although he turned to the omega, his mouth a thin line, almost curling at the edges, the closest to a smile he could reach. “You don’t need anyone when you have me.”

Yamaguchi smiled after Tsukki had forced himself to look away, but the blond’s pale composure flushed a deep red as the omega reached up to kiss Tsukki’s cheek quickly.

Oblivious to the plethora of teenage romance unfolding around them, Noya slipped under Asahi’s arm at a sudden cheeky impulse. The alpha spluttered, surprised by Noya’s sudden likening to be in constant touch, looking down at the grinning omega pressed into his side.

“Kiss me, Asahi-san,” Noya said playfully, straining up on his tiptoes. His arms stretched up, hands only just fitting around Asahi’s neck.

Asahi laughed, winding his arms around Noya’s waist, hardly able to believe he could do so now. “I’m sure you can kiss me if you want to,” Asahi teased gently. His fingers pressed into the bare skin of Noya’s exposed back, but he ignored the feeling—it would be all too much, too soon.

“ _Asahi_.”

Smiling widely, without inhibitions, Asahi leaned to kiss Noya’s nose lightly.

“No fair!” Noya exclaimed, practically livid that he was so unjustly robbed of a proper kiss. “You’re too tall!”

Asahi laughed again, and Noya decided he would do everything in his power to make him laugh more often, and louder, brighter. The alpha opened his mouth to speak, and Noya was ready to listen forever, but Daichi’s voice cut through their happy buddle.

“Asahi, Nishinoya! Break’s over. Back on court.”

With a theatrical groan, Noya loosened his hold on Asahi so he could move into position on the court. Unwilling to let go, Noya held onto Asahi’s arm as he walked away, hand sliding down until their fingers hooked together for a second, and then broke contact. Later, Suga nudged Noya on the sidelines, tilting his head in Asahi’s direction with a wry, questioning smile.

“You smell like him now,” Suga said, almost smugly, despite his deceptively innocent exterior.

“He smells like me too,” Noya corrected, watching as Asahi spiked the ball with the tremendous strength laid in his bones and muscle. The sight made Noya call out in exuberant support of his mate, smiling, never finding a valid reason to stop, because he was in love—he was happy.

“Don’t let him go again.”

Noya threw Suga a cool glance, knowing the silver-haired omega was only teasing. “Never.”

And Noya held onto Asahi when he returned onto the court, and then when they picked their bags up in the club room, and later when they walked home together. Asahi kissed Noya goodbye at the door to his house, and both returned home smelling of the other—and their parents weren’t surprised, not in the slightest, because their scent hadn’t changed that much anyway.

It was the same routine they had been following for the past few weeks, the same shy in-between glances and lingering touches, but now—now it wasn’t a taunting fantasy, it was reality. Noya loudly announced when he wanted to kiss Asahi—which was often—and Asahi caught his hand in the space between the classroom and the gym—which was even more often. Sweet gestures, like nuzzling noses during lunch, and Noya fitting inside Asahi’s jumpers—whilst Asahi was still wearing them—when the frozen chill of morning practise was too hard to bear. And also more… exuberant expressions of affection, although they had yet to truly venture into that aspect of their relationship.

Soon, Daichi and Suga could predict Noya’s imminent arrival by the pounding crescendo of footsteps, and the small flash of movement as Noya leaped towards the large, terrified Asahi. In fact, Noya seemed fixated with Asahi carrying him, maybe it had something to do with being enveloped by his scent and weight—then again, maybe Noya had just always been enamoured everything that made up Asahi.

Maybe he had always loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is basically smut kiddos ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	3. The Taste Of Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like most things concerning Asahi, Noya was left wanting more.

Asahi yelped as Noya climbed into his lap, the omega slinging his arms around his neck despite being in the plain view of the school courtyard. Noya grinned wildly at Asahi’s deepening blush, exuberant where Asahi was shy at their compromising position. Daichi only snorted at their interaction as he tucked Suga neatly into his side, seemingly unconcerned at Noya’s blatant display of affection.

However, Asahi on the other hand…

“Noya, what are you doing?” Asahi whispered, dropping his head low to the omega’s.

“I only want to be close to my alpha.” Noya kissed Asahi’s nose lightly, his grin a bright, immovable force. He felt Asahi’s reluctant hands relent in their efforts to remain awkwardly at his sides, looping around Noya’s waist with a careful looseness.

Asahi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip, a sign of his inherent apprehensiveness. “What if people see?”

“But you’re my alpha,” Noya argued petulantly.

Asahi spluttered, turning away with blazing cheeks, although Noya registered the increased tension in Asahi’s grip on his waist. Noya shifted, straddling Asahi with an obscene casualness, and angled his head to catch Asahi’s averted gaze.

“You do know that, right?”

Asahi slowly faced Noya. “Know w-what?”

“That you’ve always been my alpha.”

His mouth opened, then closed, lips darting out to anxiously wet his lips. Noya tried not to follow the movement, failing to not be so easily enchanted by the alpha’s nervous tics.  The omega drew Asahi closer, so their foreheads touched, resting there quietly. Noya made a low, questioning noise in the back of his throat, lips curing dangerously. He was more amused by Asahi’s reaction than contemplative of it.

Asahi’s eyes flickered to his for a moment, shoulders curved into their usual hunch. “You-u don’t have to be me m-mine, Noya-san,” he admitted quietly. “You’re not property.”

Of course, Asahi—ever the most chivalrous alpha to walk this earth.

Noya didn’t seem phased by his mate’s solemn answer. “But what if I want to?”

A sudden jolt seemed to bring Asahi’s body into a taught line of tension, his pupils dilating. Noya knew that he really shouldn’t tease an alpha’s instinctive protectiveness over their mate—they weren’t mates, not in true sense of the word, but Noya was adamant Asahi was his other half. However, in moments like these, he wished that Asahi was accustomed to the knowledge that Noya was completely at ease with the idea of being claimed. Because Noya did crave that bruise of grazed teeth against his neck, or handprints vividly marking his skin, simply to affirm that they were something outside of volleyball practise and their respective houses.

“Noya-san?” Asahi had noticed Noya’s slight change in expression, his dampened mood.

“Kiss me.”

A parting of lips depicted Asahi’s initial willingness, but he held back—he always held back. “W-what?”

“Please, alpha,” Noya said, the tenor of his voice dropping to something needy.

Asahi opened his mouth to reply, but Noya surged forward to stifle the stream of words. There was a grunt of surprise, unresponsive and frigid, but then Noya pressed closer. Ignoring everything around him—the public area, Suga and Daichi close by, the distant chatter of others—Noya spread his knees so his weight rested fully on Asahi, their suggestive position capable of earning suspension. Asahi made a hopeless noise, the seam of his lips coaxed to open, to share wet warmth with Noya.

This is what Noya sought—a gentle reaffirmation of what they meant to each other, a physical sign of deep, abiding companionship. Asahi moved with a confidence he rarely possessed, one hand alternating from Noya’s lower back up to cup the nape of his neck, fingernails applying imperceptible pressure to his flesh. It was an unconscious yet deliberate move, one that caused Noya’s back to arch delicately, a gasp smothered between heated kisses. Noya registered his scent glands reacting to the touch, to the overwhelming presence of his alpha.

He felt Asahi pull Noya’s hips closer with a forceful jerk, but the action was enough to make Noya’s mind go completely blank, because suddenly he was too close and there was _friction_ —

“Asahi!” Daichi shouted loudly.

Noya tipped forward precariously after Asahi drew back, depriving Noya of everything that had just recently held his attention—lips, hands, a violent thrum of his heartbeat. Asahi panted heavily, seeming unable to comprehend what he was doing, if he was meant to return to thoroughly debauching Noya or wilt under Daichi’s murderous glare.

Although, Asahi soon relented, and he and Noya both turned to look at Daichi, the former blanching at the captain’s darkened aura of stern disapproval. Noya bit his lip. Asahi gulped. Then, Noya removed his arms from Asahi’s neck to loosely grip the front of his sweater, and he expected Asahi to pull away completely, but he didn’t. Asahi simply placed one hand on Noya’s bent leg, leaning backwards so the space between them was wide enough that Daichi wouldn’t force them apart fully. 

It seemed to be a successful action—Daichi was appeased, but just barely. The captain nodded before finally focusing his attention on something—Suga, as usual—that wasn’t a flustered alpha and an equally sheepish omega. Suga reached out to grasp Daichi’s wrist, just to ensure he wouldn’t bother his teammates any further.

Noya exhaled, noticing how Asahi was fixated on his own hand, at how lightly tanned fingers spread over the supple curve of Noya’s thigh. Managing to smile through his rapidly fading haze of desire, Noya dipped low to catch Asahi’s mouth in a final kiss before moving to clamber off his lap. But he stopped halfway, held in place by Asahi’s grip on his leg.

“Asahi-san?” Noya asked, his brow furrowing. It was unlike Asahi to do anything that could be perceived as inconvenient, such as halting Noya’s movements or interrupting his flow of sentences, so Noya was wary.

Asahi blinked, his return to clarity causing the fog to clear in his fervid gaze. “Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand back quickly, “I just—” He swallowed thickly. “Can you—”

Frowning, Noya pushed off Asahi’s lap to stand in front of him, although Asahi opened his legs in clear invitation for Noya to remain close. He stepped forward, but the space between them was wide with meaning. Noya repeated Asahi’s name worriedly, now apprehensive of Asahi’s uncharacteristically bold actions.

Shaking his head at another pitiful attempt to answer, Asahi reached for Noya’s hand, fingers tentatively intertwining with the omega’s. Asahi’s head dropped, and after a beat of nervous hesitancy Noya ran his unoccupied fingertips over Asahi’s scalp to assuage his inner turmoil.

Asahi mumbled something, strained and fast.

“Huh?”

Raising his head, Asahi said shyly, “I want you close too.”

Noya paused dumbly. “ _Huh?_ ”

Asahi only smiled weakly in reply, causing every remnant of Noya’s worry and embarrassment to melt in favour of a golden burst of contentment. Maybe Asahi had always known that Noya would willingly offer any part of himself to Asahi, but the alpha would never be a man who took, or received—he was one who gave and gave and gave. And it was possible that all he needed in his attempt to finally reach for Noya, to hold him, was the shared understanding that he wanted it too.

Leaning forward, Noya kissed Asahi again, in worship of the alpha who treated him so preciously, grinning against his lips. He shrieked as Asahi suddenly lurched to his feet, arms looping around Noya’s legs and hiking his body up, cradling him close. Asahi’s rumbling laugh echoed throughout the courtyard, the noise attracting Daichi’s attention, although when he looked at the pair of them now he simply smiled before turning back to Suga.

And when the bell rang shrilly ended, Noya refused to let go of Asahi’s hand until they parted ways.

But he sought Asahi’s fingers again before practise in the club room, and then again between exercises, and also when they walked home, and even when Noya convinced Asahi to follow him inside with the promise his parents weren’t home. Asahi followed his omega inside by the joined meeting of their intertwined fingers, glancing around the empty rooms with a meek wariness.

“Are we going to watch a movie?” Asahi asked. He and Noya hadn’t planned to study together beforehand, but they usually spent their free time after volleyball practise playing video games or doing homework in his room.

Noya shrugged a little too casually. “Sure, if you want.”

Asahi thought he recognised the same underlying tone Noya used when he was three seconds away from scaring the alpha half to death, but he quickly dismissed it. His day had been tiring enough, after braving Daichi’s pointed wrath in both his classes and training after lunch, and being too unnerved to do more than hold Noya’s hand.

It was clear Noya’s favourite selection of movies were the mindless action types, but Asahi was content with anything that wasn’t outwardly scary. Asahi settled on the couch, throwing his arm over the back to create an open space for Noya to return to. What he didn’t expect was for Noya to climb into his lap without fault, straddling him with far less decorum than he had during school.

“Noya,” Asahi said weakly, “what about the movie?”

“I told you my parents weren’t home.”

“But— _Oh_.” Asahi’s fingers clenched in the balled fabric of Noya’s shirt, gripped at his waist.

Noya grinned devilishly before leaning down to kiss Asahi on the mouth, with the full intent of using tongue. Between the omega’s insistent kisses, and the hands rucking up both Asahi’s shirt and sweater to reveal his stomach, Asahi didn’t manage to get a word in edgewise. Because Noya’s deft fingers were sliding up his chest, and that was his tongue sliding obscenely past the seam of Asahi’s lips, and that was his hips rolling forward, moving, _grinding_ —

“Noya!” Asahi gasped, pulling back with a hard jerk. “St-stop, wait!”

But Noya was already dipping to find Asahi’s reddened mouth again, determined to continue kissing him. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he admitted, pressing closer, his body hot and lithe under Asahi’s hands.

“Do you really wanna do this though?” Asahi asked seriously, causing Noya to sit back, confused.

“Do what? Kiss? Rut?” He cocked his head to the side in a bird-like fashion, even if he was straining against his will to rotate his hips in a slow circle again, just to see Asahi’s reaction.

“No, I j-just meant that, u-um,” Asahi glanced away, deflecting Noya’s keen scrutiny. “I want-t to be s-sure that you’re o-okay with this.”

They had fooled around before, their romantic interludes mostly compromising of countless kisses pressed to their necks, fingers hesitantly sliding beneath the hem of a shirt, or maybe a daring knee lodged between the cradle of two legs. But it hadn’t passed Noya shucking of his shirt during heated, wet open-mouthed kisses, or once when Asahi bought his hand between their clothed bodies to unthinkingly rub Noya’s growing arousal, although both instances resulted in Asahi’s flustered blushing.

It wasn’t the intimacy that made Asahi nervous, it was the fear that his alpha instincts would override his normal, gentle disposition.

“Asahi-san,” Noya murmured fondly, attuned to his alpha’s inner turmoil. “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“I want t-to believe I could n-never do that, but I ha-have before.” His grip on Noya loosened, although soon Noya was cupping Asahi’s face tenderly, holding his glass heart together. “That n-night at training camp, I was worried I was g-gonna do something y-you didn’t want.”

“Alpha,” Noya said firmly, capturing Asahi’s attention, “listen to me when I say that I have never felt uncomfortable when I was with you. I have never felt like you couldn’t protect me, or that you would hurt me.”

Asahi’s smile was tremulous, unconvinced.

“Can you do something for me?” Noya asked innocently.

He nodded.

There was a slow unveiling of Noya’s slim, pale neck. “ _Bite_.”

“Noya, I can’t—”

Bonding was a widely ignored aspect of alpha and omega relationships, mainly because it never truly took hold between couples who weren’t mates. It was most likely to remain imprinted on their skin during heats, or when they were knotted, acting as a physical sign of their most sacred connection. It was the only physical identifier of omegas who were mated—alphas could receive a similar bite-mark on their necks by their omegas, but it was rare.

“Suga once said that there would only ever be you and me, Asahi. He and Daichi can understand each other so easily it’s clear to the entire world that they’re mates, but they’re not bonded, they haven’t even had sex.” Noya paused, hands drifting to rest on Asahi’s sturdy shoulders. “But they are mates, so I believe that this”—he stretched his neck pointedly—“isn’t a claim of ownership, but a promise of what’s to come.”

“Do you think we’re—” _Mates?_

“Yeah, I do.”

This time, Asahi’s smile was genuine. He surged forward to hug Noya tightly, completely enveloping the smaller omega in his burly embrace, allowing his pheromones to flood the air, thick with his happiness. Noya laughed as Asahi started to pepper his face with kisses, nuzzling against him with a shy smile. He was amazed that Asahi could be so perfectly overjoyed to simply have Noya, to touch and kiss without restraint.

Noya felt Asahi’s mouth meet his in a slow, lazy joining that caused Noya’s mind to blank, fingertips skirting along the column of his neck, drawn to it. His other arm was slung around his waist like a band, pulling his hips flush against Asahi’s. But Noya couldn’t dwell on the interest stirring beneath his belt, because Asahi’s lips were meandering across his jaw, and lower still.

Back arching at the first hint of teeth, Noya was surprised when Asahi growled roughly in response, already so close to his scent glands. Asahi kissed the offered skin once, wetly, tightening his grip on Noya before—

Noya could only hold onto Asahi’s shoulders as the alpha moved, effectively manoeuvring Noya’s back onto the couch so he was lying down without breaking the solid, throbbing contact between their bodies. Asahi curled his large body over Noya’s, knees digging into the cushioned seat on either side of Noya’s thighs, hands braced beside his head.

There was a surprised whimper as Asahi caught Noya’s parted mouth in a kiss, tongue delving into the warm heat. His eyes fluttering to a close, Noya reached upwards to find Asahi’s shoulders, fingers anchored to the muscles shifting beneath his clothes.

Asahi didn’t mould his body to Noya’s, instead he hovered above, so tantalisingly close. Titling his head, Noya felt a slick slide of tongues, the raw physicality of the action causing pleasure to spike through him. Noya made an unthinking, keening noise, wanting Asahi nearer, but he wouldn’t relent. Asahi remained an unmovable figure above him, content with mere kiss and touch.

Focused on eliciting more than slow, deep kisses and muffled moans from Asahi, Noya’s hands alternated from his shoulders to his hair, pulling the elastic band loose. With a sharp tug, Noya brushed the thick strands free, allowing it to frame Asahi’s face.

Pulling back, Asahi blinked. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“You look good with your hair down.”

Asahi flushed, ducking his head in embarrassment. Grinning, and completely infatuated with his alpha, Noya strained upwards to chastely kiss Asahi’s cheek, and then his lips drifted to his ear.

“I dreamed about this,” Noya admitted. “I thought about you over me, close to me, _inside_ of me.” The calm, shameless tone of his voice made Asahi jerk above him, a sharp intake of breath.

“I—” Asahi swallowed, too self-conscious to finish the sentence. He could barely do more than stare down at Noya, his hair mused and clothes rumpled, his swollen lips a sign of Asahi’s thorough attention.

“Can you stay the night?”

Asahi’s breath was a quivering shudder.

Lower, more vulnerable. “Can you stay with me?”

“Yeah, I can.” Asahi knew he would have to call his parents later, but right now it didn’t matter, _nothing_ mattered.

This time, when Asahi lowered his mouth to Noya’s, the omega snaked his leg outwards. Noya’s heel dug into Asahi’s lower back, curled around his waist to urge him down, pressed to him. The air swirling with the smell of obvious arousal, Noya broke away to gasp Asahi’s name, to ask him to finally give in.

Asahi groaned, allowing his weight to fall, to rest fully against Noya’s body beneath him. Noya cry was sudden, ripped out of him as Asahi’s hips slotted against his, chests pressed to one another. Readjusting his position so Asahi’s weight was balanced mainly on his elbows to refrain from crushing Noya, the movement overwhelmed Noya’s senses. Their clothes provided an abundant source of friction, the sparse bare skin that was exposed burned to the touch, the various points of contact more than what Noya could process.

“Asahi, please,” Noya heard himself say, unable to voice just how much he needed Asahi.

A pause, a flash of Asahi’s warm brown eyes catching Noya’s in permission, before a slight shift. Asahi rolled his hips against Noya’s, resulting in another high, breathless cry. Lowering his head to Noya’s neck, seeking comfort in the press of his nose to the skin there, Asahi dared to move again. He continued to grind against him, always with the same tentative application of pressure, afraid of hurting Noya.

Frustrated with being this close to Asahi, of having him move against him in fear rather than passion, Noya’s spine curved upwards. He hitched both his legs around Asahi’s waist, causing the alpha to centre his weight at the apex of their groins. Asahi moaned, feeling Noya’s fingernails scrape over the back of his sweater before finding their way underneath. The slight teasing contact caused Asahi to surge forward, to thrust harder.

Noya cried out again, because his fantasies were no longer that, they were now realities. He no longer had to imagine the power of Asahi’s thrusts against him, or the flex of his muscles, because now he could just remember _this_. The slight give in control—the mutual trust and friendship they had worked to maintain—now was a much stronger bond. Not merely because they could kiss in private, or touch in public, but because Noya knew that Asahi would always be there, acting as a steady source of support.

And—

And he wanted to be with Asahi, at the closest possible level.

“Asahi,” Noya managed to say, “mate me.”

Asahi stilled. He raised his head slowly, his gaze wide.

“Mate me.”

“Are you sure?”

Noya nodded, smiling—he always smiled brightly, without fear, but now it was small and kind and private.

Asahi didn’t need any more encouragement to know this was what Noya wanted, and his arms wound around Noya’s waist to pull him up. With a seamless display of strength, Asahi managed to stand, holding Noya in his arms, the omega’s legs still locked around his waist.

Noya could only find Asahi’s lips between excited pants, still moving his hips forward in restricted thrusts, urging him to move faster. Asahi quickened his pace, lowering Noya’s feet to the ground once they reached his room, tense with unwound energy. Clutching the edge of Asahi’s sweater, it wasn’t long before Noya spurred him into action and the alpha was pulling it clean off. Noya stopped, staring once Asahi was shirtless, fixated on the tanned expanse of muscle.

“Stop it.” Asahi pulled his arm across his stomach nervously.

“But you—” Noya stepped forward, knowing Asahi reacted better to action than words. “You look so good, alpha.”

Flushed, Asahi could only lower his head to kiss Noya on the mouth swiftly. “Your turn,” he said, teasing.

Noya was much less reluctant to shed his clothes, flinging his shirt off, followed by his pants, stopping at his underwear at Asahi’s furious blush. He reached forward to silently hook his fingers through Asahi’s belt loops, pulling him towards his bed. Asahi covered Noya’s body with his own against the mattress, kissing him soundly. It felt more intimate now, in the simple privacy of Noya’s room, unclothed.

Asahi kissed Noya with increased fervour, sound reverberating deep in his chest as he bent down, pressing closer to the omega. Noya arched under his touch, at the fingers running up his arms and then down to grip his thigh. Reaching for Asahi’s back, Noya was left non-verbal with the bare skin he found there, the raw physicality of Asahi’ being this close, so exposed.

Noya murmured something low and erotic into the pheromone-thick air, causing Asahi to thrust against him so powerfully Noya felt his whole body slide further up the bed. His trembling whimper echoed in the dimmed light of the room, quiet only for the slow rocking of the bed, of the shuddering moans and shallow pants.

“I need you, Asahi, please,” Noya was rambling, feeling the same as he did in the showers at training camp, his heartbeat rising. “Inside me, please. Now.”

Asahi pulled back, breathing heavily as he rushed to unbutton his pants, tugging them off hurriedly. Noya moved onto his elbows so he could reach out and kiss along the toned muscle of Asahi’s shoulders, wanting to remain so impossibly close, never far from each other again. Then Asahi was turning, surging forward to kiss Noya with unbridled passion, pulling the willing omega into his lap as he leaned back. Noya went gladly, inhaling shakily as Asahi broke away to kiss his neck, and then collarbone, and lower down still.

Gasping his alpha’s name, Noya braced himself on Asahi’s flexing biceps, completely helpless to the fire-hot line of kisses Asahi trailed down his chest. He gripped Asahi’s hair tightly, desperately, throwing his head back to utter a sound of stuttered pleasure. Noya felt Asahi pull him closer by the waist, startling at the insistent throb of flesh he came into contact with. The omega looked down to see Asahi had forgone his pants and underwear both, completely naked, and more comfortable than Noya had ever seen him.

“You sure?” Asahi said, worriedly noticing Noya’s sudden stillness.

Nodding shortly, Noya was overwhelmed by the expanse of flesh and the slow unfurling of pheromones in the air. “I—You—” He struggled to find the right words, _any_ words.

Asahi kissed Noya’s collarbone lightly, tenderly, in a placating gesture that seemed to rile Noya more than soothe him. Instead, Asahi diverted his attention to the scent glands on Noya’s neck, triggering a release of endorphins that calmed him, centred on the complimentary scent of Asahi, of his alpha.

Smiling against his skin, Asahi pulled back to watch Noya. After a few moments of listening to laboured panting, no movement taken between breaths, Noya looked at Asahi, curious. The alpha smiled at him in simple contentment, hands a firm press of contact curled protectively around Noya’s waist.

“What are you doing?” Noya asked, his lungs airless.

“I’m happy.”

“Oh.” The response seemed adequate, despite the circumstances being leagues more than adequate.

Noya couldn’t bear to look at Asahi any longer than necessary, because his skin was overheated, and his senses overwhelmed. The room was a kaleidoscope of emotion, normal scents addled by heady pheromones, drawn curtains plunging the area into a darkness where smiles and words could be shared freely, uninhibited.

Instead, he reached across to find the small container of lube he had hidden in his bedside table, noticing Asahi’s flustered blush with a suppressed glee. If Noya still retained the ability to talk, he would’ve teased Asahi, saying he thought of Asahi when he used the lube, and also when he didn’t.

Asahi’s gaze widened as he watched Noya slid a hand behind in a practised movement, slipping beneath the hem of his underwear. The angle was awkward and unfamiliar, but Asahi was fixated on Noya, enraptured by him. The sharp inhalations, the shudder of muscles, the alternation of pressure—it was a symphony of arousal, of perfect sound and movement that Asahi never wanted to forget.

But Asahi didn’t need to catalogue this moment, because soon Noya had shed the last offending article of clothing, and he was closer than before, hotter than before. Asahi didn’t trust himself to do more than tentatively hold onto Noya, who had braced one hand on Asahi’s shoulders as he positioned both of the with the other, and finally, bridged the distance between them.

Noya gripped Asahi to anchor himself, feeling the alpha still, restraining himself, arms tensing around Noya’s smaller body at that slight give in resistance. The air was thick and heavy, almost humid with the mingling scents of their collective arousal. He felt Asahi’s teeth graze his neck, but they never bit down. He wouldn’t bond them, at least not until Noya gave his explicit consent to be tied to him forever, and they were both ready.

“Are you alright?” Asahi was saying into the apex of Noya’s neck, holding him tightly, enveloping the omega whole in his arms. At Noya’s silence—he was currently preoccupied with the knowledge that it was Asahi inside him, that he was finally connected to the alpha at the most intimate level—Asahi continued, “We can stop if you want, or if it’s too painful. We don’t have to do this—”

Asahi shifted ever so slightly, but the movement caused a spike of heat to shoot through him. The omega’s arms locked around Asahi’s neck, gripping his hair, a whimper sliding past his lips.

“Noya?” He felt Asahi’s voice reverberate deep in his chest, the sound caught between them. The alpha held himself still, wound so tight that he trembled violently, yet somehow he treated Noya like he was something fragile. Something he wouldn’t dare hurt.

“Move, Asahi,” Noya managed to say, the words wavering.

“Are you sure?”

The omega turned his head, affectionately nuzzling into Asahi until he relented, moving towards him. Asahi kissed with a tight-lipped strain, although it soon eased, slackened. Noya’s fingers slid through the alpha’s long hair, wounded noises rising in his throat, needing Asahi to _move_. As his discomfort slowly crumbled, washed away by the simmering burn of base, animalistic desire, Noya rolled his hips forward.

The alpha surged upwards, his low, biting growl echoing within the confines of the room, laying over Noya’s skin. It was a sound of ownership, of possession.

Asahi’s hand slid to the base of Noya’s spine, coaxing him to mimic the movement as the fingers of his other hand splayed over the omega’s back, nearly encompassing his entire shoulder blade. The toned flesh and muscle flexed between Noya’s hands, belying Asahi’s tenuous self-control, and he knew that Asahi would never forgo his inhibitions to finally claim him.

Testing the thrum of volatile energy building between them, Noya braced his knees one either side of Asahi’s hips and started to move. Noya allowed his pelvis to rock back and forth, Asahi’s sharp gasp slicing through the thick heat, silently urging him on. He grimaced at the residual pain of it, but there was underlying pleasure. A promise of more than jerky, unsure movements and Asahi remaining frustratingly steadfast in his decision for Noya to control the situation, altering the pace and angle as he saw fit.

Noya leaned backwards so he could look at Asahi instead of simply hearing him pant roughly in his ear. He felt his cheeks flush a burning red at the sight of Asahi’s bottom lip caught between his teeth, the uncontrolled heat in his eyes wild but tempered. Titillated by Asahi’s fraying appearance, as his usually mild demeanour whittled away, Noya ground down against his alpha, succeeding in pulling a rough grunt from him. A large, calloused thumb pressed into the soft flesh of Noya’s hip, a sign of restricted strain.

“You don’t need to hold back,” Noya whispered, voice hitching on the last vowel.

Asahi suppressed a growl, imagining thrusting into Noya with relentless abandon, of flipping him onto his back and covering the omega completely. “I can’t do that; I won’t risk it.” He noted the increased tempo of Noya’s hips, the more confident rhythm of his sinuous body.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“It’s—” Asahi groaned when Noya found more stable purchase, sliding up and down with a renewed vigour, causing heat to flare along every nerve within him. He felt Noya’s grin more than saw it, glimmering in the heady darkness. “It’s more than that, Noya.”

“What else is there?” The omega’s head tipped back, baring the delectable offer of his unmarked neck. Asahi knew he did it on purpose, but he wouldn’t do more than touch Noya gingerly, and kiss him even more fleetingly still.

“I can’t lose myself to this,” Asahi admitted after an unsteady beat, withholding himself. “I don’t want to go so far that I hurt you, or that I can’t stop myself…” He wasn’t looking at Noya, an action that infuriated him to no end. “That I can’t stop myself before I knot you. Or bond you.”

“ _Asahi-san_ ,” Noya shivered at the mere thought of it, of being inexplicably tied to him. He wanted that, he wanted that so much he ached for it, pining for a future when Asahi trusted himself to act upon his instincts.

Asahi hissed between his teeth, and only then did Noya realise he had spoken aloud.

“Can you at least move then, Asahi-san?” Noya said plaintively, anchored to the brawny strength of the alpha’s shoulders, of the power laid within. “Just… I want you to do this with me.”

Asahi murmured something low and grating, finally, _finally_ raising his hips to meet Noya’s. And it—it was pure, blinding electricity. No longer reduced to Noya’s one-sided actions, surrendering to the animal in him that had been vying for dominance ever since he had first slid into Noya, his omega. Asahi was still firmly leasing his control, but his hands dipped low to Noya’s pert ass, digging into the tender flesh as he urged him to continue, to match his pace fluidly.

“I want you too, Noya,” Asahi admitted roughly. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Noya whimpered, gasping at the sudden force of Asahi’s thrust, eliciting a spark of pleasure satisfyingly deep inside him. He moaned at every joined point of contact, his surplus of sound compensating for Asahi’s lack of it. It was a silent understanding shared between two people, a connection sealed through touch and feelings kindled inside, held close.

Although it would be a little rushed and awkward, always uncertain, Noya’s skin would tingle with the memory of Asahi’s hands and kisses and breath for _hours_ afterwards. And Asahi would blush at the sweat-thick musk that Noya would carry for _days_ , proudly flaunting the romantic implications of Asahi’s scent clinging to him.

It was clear their first experience was mellow, and much too gentle, but Asahi just wanted to be close to Noya. That was for later—for teeth against his skin, and weight braced over him, and the interlocking of their bodies. And that maybe, just maybe, Noya would wake up beside Asahi as his mate, and find his large hand unconsciously resting over the swell of his pregnant stomach.

It was that knowledge alone—that Asahi was his alpha, _his_ —that made Noya find Asahi’s open mouth, swallowing his moan as he pressed their chests flush together. That made Asahi draw him further into his protective embrace, that made his hand drift to the point of Noya’s arousal and quickly bring him to the all-consuming precipice, to the brink.

Noya cried out suddenly, loudly, shuddering in Asahi’s arms as he curled inwards, forehead dipping to Asahi’s neck. He tried to retain a consistent pace of his hips. To rut against Asahi, to feel his thighs tremor with the titillating sight of the omega writhing in his lap, but the white-hot rush of oblivion was merciless.

He managed to find Asahi’s lips again, murmuring absentmindedly about their next time, or when he was in heat—when Asahi would fuck him, could knot him properly and never let go. Asahi kissed him back tentatively, breathing deeply, still too tense to do more than hold his omega. Noya tried to roll his hips forward again, crying out as the stimulation caused his over-sensitised body to quake.

Asahi waited a few moments longer, running a comforting hand over Noya’s back in a soothingly repeated motion. Only when Noya stopped quivering did Asahi gather the lax omega in his arms and carefully manoeuvred him onto the bed, jaw tightening at Noya’s whimper of lost contact. Flushed with embarrassment at their sticky tangle of limbs, Asahi could only mould to the curve of Noya’s spine before slipping his hands downwards to his own throbbing pulse of arousal.

Noya made an inquisitive noise at the rough, short jerks of Asahi’s shoulder behind, and turned to find the alpha staunchly avoiding his gaze. The fog clouding his mind quickly dissipated, and Noya stopped Asahi with a hand pressed lightly to his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” the alpha said, his voice honey-thick. “I didn’t... And I can leave if you—” Noya halted his frantic ramblings with a firm press of their lips, silencing him.

“Asahi-san,” Noya practically drawled his name, fond and quiet in the sex-heavy scent of the room. His hand trailed down Asahi’s face, to the arm which reached across the alpha’s abdomen, until his fingers met Asahi’s. Noya smiled at Asahi’s sharp, pained intake of breath, kissing the corner of his mouth. “You just could’ve just told me.”

Unlike Noya’s unabashedly loud shout of completion, Asahi’s orgasm was his usual tempered quietness. He had gripped Noya’s hip sometime after his hand had first curled around Asahi, fingers pressing a five-pointed bruise into the omega’s skin as his entire body went rigid. Asahi breathed Noya’s name with a sombre reverence, his eyes shut tightly. Noya managed to kiss him again, their noses only awkwardly bumping together slightly as Asahi’s mouth moved against him without purpose, seeking contact. Eventually, Asahi’s muscles relaxed and his shoulders dropped, and Noya slowed the lazy strokes of his hand to a complete standstill before removing it altogether.

Noya nuzzled against Asahi, sliding their bodies impossibly closer. “The… What about the…” Asahi complained weakly, his eyes a warm and dewy brown. “We need to clean up…” He continued to murmur thoughtfully even when Noya kissed him again, more firmly.

“I want to smell like you, alpha.”

Instead of verbal reply, Asahi pulled him closer and hooked a strong thigh over Noya’s legs. The scent of sex would linger on their skins for days afterwards, intermingling now, here, in the accepting darkness of Asahi’s bedroom. It wasn’t as final as bonding, or knotting, but it was still an exercise of what could easily follow—mating.

“I want people to know that I’m yours,” Noya admitted, so wholeheartedly appeased by the idea that anyone could reach that simple conclusion. He bared his neck again in invitation, needing just a little more, that visual proof.

“Noya, I can’t—”

“Just a mark,” Noya said, straining so all Asahi could focus on was the unmarked flesh beneath him. “Nothing too dark, but just enough for it to be clear to everyone. _Please_.” He near begged, knowing that the alpha within Asahi would stir at the plaintive quality of his plea.

Asahi swallowed before leaning forward, his mouth closing over Noya’s neck with only a hint of teeth. The omega gasped at the contact, grasping Asahi’s shoulders as his back bowed upwards, driven by the instinct for Asahi to _bite_ , to _claim_. Asahi’s own show of self-constraint was much more controlled, and he pulled back only after a few tense, heated seconds.

Asahi rubbed their necks together after a moment’s deliberation, triggering a release of potent pheromones that instantly lulled Noya into a contented state, and eased the raging animal inside Asahi. He could be appeased by the simple knowledge that he had left that possessive mark on Noya’s neck, that he distinctly belonged to Asahi.

Moving to burrow further into Asahi’s embrace, Noya smiled faintly as the alpha’s arms closed around him, shifting so Noya could be completely enveloped by everything Asahi was—scent, flesh, touch. Between settling into a comfortably intertwined position, Asahi simply kissed Noya’s forehead intermittently, his grip forever tightening on the omega.

Noya fell asleep to the strong, rhythmic beat of Asahi’s heart, comforted in the knowledge that this was his future—and that Asahi would forever be a part of it. Asahi’s lips drifted lower just once more as Noya balanced on the precipice of sleep, and the memory of lips pressed to his was his last before the omega finally succumbed to the pull of blackness.

Noya awoke as the broad warmth shifted under him, Asahi’s chest falling on the tail-end of a large sigh. He blinked pleasantly as the first glimmers of early morning sunlight pierced his vision, so he turned his head to look at Asahi instead. It was a good idea—much, _much_ better than facing the new day.

“You awake?” Noya asked sleepily. He huffed a short laugh as he raised himself up onto his elbows, because Asahi was slow to wake, and even longer to acting like a coherent human being.

He stared at Asahi in the wonderfully serene moments he had to himself. Noya felt the corners of his mouth pull into a large, wild grin, his heart tripping an erratic beat, and molten gold settling in his stomach.

Asahi was _his_ —Asahi was here, in his bed, they were _together_. Noya hadn’t dared to even think that maybe Asahi would look at him as anything more than a friend, but he said he loved him, and if not for some last scrap of self-control they may have bonded last night.

A shudder shook Noya’s shoulders at the thought, because he wanted to be bonded. His omega instincts had the natural predisposition to seek everything else that came with finding a mate, but _Noya_ wanted it. Asahi may not have been his true mate in every sense of the word just yet, but Noya couldn’t wait the same way Daichi and Suga were. He wasn’t already halfway to something, like Karasuno’s Freak Duo were, or the captain and setter of Nekoma, but…

Noya recalled reading an article about the genius captain of Seijou, that when he asked about his relationship status he had said he’d been bonded to the same person since he was fifteen. That Oikawa had called his mysterious alpha his mate despite social norms, despite who much harder it’d be to became a pro volleyballer when he was an omega, and dedicated to another person.

Noya’s deep thoughts were interrupted as Asahi shifted again, a rumbling mass of muscle and rumpled hair. “Noya?” He mumbled, reaching to rub his bleary eyes. Asahi seemed to sink lower into the mattress, his free arm winding around Noya to tug him closer.

Quickly surrendering to the sight of Asahi’s warm, unthinking smile, Noya’s leg slid firmly over Asahi’s waist so he could rest more fully on Asahi, kissing him sweetly. They smelt like sex, of faded sweat and come and pheromones, and were in much need of a shower, but Noya knew—he knew this was perfect, this is what he would like his future to be.

“Wait!” Asahi shot up into a seating position, jostling Noya. “Oh, Noya, n-no—” He spluttered. “I’m sorry, it’s j-just—” A flustered blush painted Asahi’s cheeks red as the bedsheets fell from him and Noya both, revealing a very dishevelled, completely naked omega.

Blinking his wide, bird-like eyes, Noya’s grin turned easing. “Are you embarrassed, Asahi-san?”

“No, uh—” Noya leaned forward, hands braced on either of Asahi’s thighs. “I was just—”

“ _Asahi_.”

Asahi gulped, focusing on speaking and _not_ on how Noya was still in bed with him, still so tantalisingly close. “W-what about your parents?”

Noya blinked in confusion, before his gaze cleared. “Oh shit! They said they’d be home by morning.”

Nodding vigorously, Asahi was pulled out of bed by Noya, who hurriedly threw his clothes at him. Asahi stumbled into his pants, concentrating on not looking at Noya as he struggled to fit into a shirt until he realised it was Noya’s. He reached for what looked like his own clothes on the ground, narrowly dodging a naked flash of Noya in an unbuttoned cotton shirt.

In under five minutes they were hastily dressed, panting with nervousness and exhilaration, right at the moment Noya’s parents called out, “Noya, time to wake up!”

Now they were faced with the dilemma of a viable escape route.

“The w-window?” Asahi prompted.

“The window,” Noya agreed.

Asahi was halfway out the window, a hulking mass of ungainly limbs, when Noya suddenly grabbed onto one of Asahi’s arms, braced against the windowsill. The alpha was turning, still holding his tenuous balance as he felt Noya duck his head so he was eye-level with Asahi. There was no space to think or debate the chance of success before Noya was kissing Asahi’s stunned mouth, barely initiating contact as he was smiling so widely, and Asahi realised he was doing the same thing.

Noya pulled back a fraction, just so he could meet the warm brown tones of Asahi’s gaze. “See you at school, alpha,” he said, swooping down to kiss Asahi again—because he could, because it was natural. “I love you.”

Apprehension faded in relaxed contentment, and Asahi replied, “Always.”

And then Asahi’s considerable weight tilted back and he was scrambling to maintain control as he half-fell, half-dropped to the ground below. He grinned at Noya once his feet hit the ground, sneaking to the front gate to the best of his ability, and stopping to wave at Noya again before disappearing completely from view.

Noya rested his elbows on the windowsill, so unbelievably happy he felt invincible. Like he would be able to face anything with Asahi by his side, acting as the same sturdy foundation of support and kindness no matter what the future would foretell. _So this was what it felt like to have a mate_ , he mused.

Somewhere between the time Asahi sneaking out of Noya’s house and making it to his first class, Suga shouted a sudden warning to an unprepared Asahi. The school hallway was deserted, but Asahi barely managed to avoid a fuming Daichi hurling a textbook at him—and then he realised that he and Noya had both slept in, and subsequently missed morning volleyball practise.

Afterwards, when Noya found a slightly shaken Asahi during lunch break, Daichi was too embarrassed to scold them once he realised _why_ they were late. And Asahi didn’t possess the effort to shyly ignore the snickers of his teammates in embarrassment, because Noya was tucked into his side, and he didn’t have a single thing to be scared about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws my [tumblr](http://diggitydamnsebastianstan.tumblr.com/) out there so anyone has the ability to virtually punch me for writing about 5k of less-than-decent smut* like who even am i???
> 
> also there is a short ass [sequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6395080) for those interested ;)))

**Author's Note:**

> comments, kudos, practically anything are much appreciated!!!


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